


only the dead have seen the end of war

by mysteriousnight



Category: The Queen of the Tearling - Erika Johansen, The Queen of the Tearling Series - Erika Johansen
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-05-02 21:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriousnight/pseuds/mysteriousnight
Summary: Kelsea chose something different to change when William Tear asks her to choose. The childlike monsters are gone, but everyone has to deal with the aftermath. Broken people in a broken kingdom, trying to rebuild from destruction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is a quote from Plato that i find poetic and really like
> 
> I wrote this because I wasn't totally content with the ending of The Fate of the Tearling. I wanted to explore what would happen if Kelsea chose something different. Everyone still remembers Rowan Finn's the monsters coming and attacking them and the people who died because of the monsters wake up alive again.
> 
> All the characters and world is Erika Johansen's and I really love these books and I'm glad I read them.
> 
> I hope you like this

The crown trembled in Kelsea’s hand. She felt her heartbeat in her head, drowning out the chaos happening around her. She rose it up, Rowen’s voice screaming at her in her head.  
She let go of the crown, letting it drop on top of her head. Nothing happened at first and Kelsea stomach dropped. Everything she went through and the crown, their only beacon of hope, wasn't working. Panic rose but Kelsea pushed it down, closing her eyes.

And then she felt different. It became silent all around her. Kelsea opened her eyes to find herself in the cottage. Barty and Carlin’s cottage. She gasped, surveying the house. Everything seemed orderly, like she never left it all those months ago. A spark of hope rose and Kelsea stood up.

“Carlin? Barty?” Her voice echoed across the room. There was no answer, only the quiet sounds of Kelsea breathing. She turned around, looking for somewhere to go. She spotted her corner and smiled.

Kelsea walked to the chair in the corner, perfectly outlined with sunlight. Her face broke into a smile and she forced back tears. The nostalgia was too much to handle.

“What’s your choice, Kelsea?” A voice broke the silence. Kelsea whipped around to find herself face to face with William Tear. He looked at her, blue eyes piercing her soul. “We don't have that much time.” Tear spoke again, blinking slowly.

“What can I choose?” Kelsea’s voice sounded weak, her whole presence seemed to be diminished by Tear’s. Tear smiled to her.

“You can choose one thing to be different.” Tear turned his head down, looking at his watch. He tsked, tapping the face of the clock. “Hurry, Kelsea.”

Kelsea looked at the ground, trying to think of the moment everything went to shit. She thought of her first mistake, just stopping the slave trade without a thought of the consequences, but things were bad before she came. Everything she thought of, she also thought of how those events snowballed and effected the world today. 

Kelsea blinked and looked up. Tear smiled again, seemingly knowing what Kelsea would chose.

“I want Rowen Finn to have died after I freed him from the curse of the sapphires.” Kelsea looked at Tear, searching for any indication that she made the right choice. But Tear simply nodded and turned away.

“Luck to you, child. One day, perhaps, when your time is done we will meet again. I see you have a story to tell, and I would like to hear it.” Tear walked away, leaving Kelsea alone in the cottage for the last time.  
When Kelsea opened her eyes again, she was back in the hallway. The crown was still on her head and a few of her guards were standing at the door, unmoving. They all looked confused, looking at the Mace for guidance.

“What did you do?” The Mace knelt down in front of Kelsea, taking the crown off her head. Kelsea looked at him and smiled.

“I saved the day.” Kelsea pushed herself forward and wrapped her arms around the Mace. He stayed still for a moment but then moved to wrapped his arms around Kelsea. They stayed like that for a minute; Kelsea burying her head into his shoulder letting her tears finally come. It wasn't until Coryn coughed that Kelsea pulled away.

“I don't know what you did, but it didn't stop everything. The Church is still trying to bust down our walls.” Coryn looked down at Kelsea and smirked. He held a hand out for her. Kelsea’s face harden and she took Coryn’s hand, hoisting herself up.

“My crown, Lazarus.” Kelsea called and then felt the weight of the crown hit her head and she smiled. It was comforting, having a real crown. The crown was heavy on her head, but the weight only pushed Kelsea on. She grabbed her sword and made her way towards the door.

Finding where the chaos was wasn't hard. Kelsea just followed the yelling, her small team of Queen Guards trailing behind her. Kelsea wasn't afraid anymore, to walk the halls without guard. The past few weeks were a whirlwind of pain and fears but fearing for her life didn't seemed like a problem anymore.

The gate guard were still at their posts, a bit confused as to what happened, but still there. Kelsea nodded to them as she approached. A few bowed to her but most just followed the crown on her head.

“Let me open the gates.” Kelsea said to no one in particular. There were some mummers around her until someone stepped forward to start opening the door. Kelsea looked and saw it was Javel, a frown permanently on his face. 

Kelsea was relieved to see him, she hid a smile as Javel finished his job. He stepped aside and knelt as Kelsea walked past him.

The roar of noise died down once Kelsea walked outside. Hundreds of people stood around the door, all wearing various symbols of the Church. Kelsea surveyed the crowd, narrowing her eyes as each person. They fell back from her, sending whispers about the crown into the crowd.

“I demand to know what you are all doing here. We were under attack by two separate forces not a week apart and you all have the audacity to form a mob.” Kelsea’s voice rose, traveling across the Keep lawn and out into New London. The whole city seemed silent. “Mob’s are never the answer in times of crisis. Were you thinking of overthrowing me? And then do what? Put someone up just as bad as my uncle?” Kelsea paused as the Mace touched her shoulder, trying to pull her back, but she was already started and the church could not avoid punishment for their crimes this time.

“I am not the perfect Queen. God, do I know that. But to try to create anarchy when what we need is stability and reform: That is treason. To put your Church first and listen to the Holy Father before thinking of your community and life is wrong. What good were you to accomplish today? Nothing. Now go home. And give word to the Holy Father that I demand a meeting.” Kelsea paused again, looking at the fearful faces of the people around her. She breathed, calming herself. 

“No true harm has come from your actions today, so no punishment will come to all of you. So tonight go to your families and hold them close. Tell your loved ones how much they mean to you. Remember those who you have lost and cherish your lives.” Kelsea stopped and took in the silence. She looked back at her guard and smiled. They smiled back to her. “For those who do not have food for a meal, in two hours there will be free food on the Keep lawn. Come and rejoice your lives. Live long Tearling. Live long.” 

Kelsea turned and exited back into the Keep. She heard her guards following her through the corridors, keeping pace as she made her way back to Queen’s wing.  
Back at the queen’s wing, the guard reformed, everyone accounted for. Kelsea wasn't sure how they all knew to meet back here, but she was glad to see all the familiar faces. Kelsea scanned the crowd and found Penn and gave him a small nod. He nodded back, not quite meeting Kelsea’s eyes.

“Excuse me? Can I say something?” Kelsea asked her guards, taking off her crown as she talked. The guards all looked at her, most were smiling. Kelsea smiled back at them, a happy laugh building up in her throat. “Hello. I'm glad to see you all. I'm sure you heard my speech out there and I want to give a personal one for you all.” Kelsea pause, collecting her thoughts.

“We have a lot of work to do. Every one of you are a valuable part of this kingdom and I value each one of you. There will be reform happening in the months to come and I need your help to oversee it goes smoothly. You haven't let me down yet and I trust all of you. I would never be here if you haven't helped me. Thank you.” Kelsea looked at the floor for a moment, looking up at her guards again, running her hand through her hair. “Lazarus will distribute positions for tonight. We need guards on the food for the people and the meeting with the Holy Father. I will rejoin you in an hour, hopefully to meet with the Holy Father.” Kelsea walked through the crowd, the guards parting to let her by.

The hall was silent as Kelsea left, the guards watching her walk down to hall towards her room. Once they heard the door close, all eyes turned to the Mace. He looked at his men and frowned.

“Group one will be with Kelsea tonight and group two will be distributing the food to the people. You have an hour to get ready.” The Mace crossed his arms, surveying his guard. Tired faces stared back at him, dirt and blood streaked across skin and amor. The Mace turned away, following the way Kelsea.

_______________

 

Elston sat on his bed mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards. The guard quarters were bustling with activity, men showering,regrouping, and trying to relax until the hour was up. Elston already showred, scrubbing away the blood and filth that covered his body from the days before.  
Elston set down the deck and cards and sighed, pushing his hands through his hair. He fell back onto his bed, closing his eyes. He laid there, unable to sleep; images of the childlike monsters flashed through his mind whenever he closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes, choosing to focus on his ceiling instead of monsters. As Elston laid there, the door connecting Kibb’s room with his opened. Elston jolted up and looked at the door, not sure of who to expect except Kibb. Sure enough, it was Kibb, making his way towards Elston, a tray of food in his hands.

They didn't say anything as Kibb sat down in front of Elston. Kibb just nodded to him and picked at the food. Elston grabbed some food and looked at Kibb.

Kibb seemed tired, dark circles encased his eyes. His hair was wet, a sign that he just finished washing up. He ate little off the plate, letting Elston have most of the food. It was silent for sometime, only breathing and chewing was heard, until Elston stopped eating and looked at the man across from him.

“We were separated back there. You stayed out in New London when I went with the queen inside.” Elston was quiet, watching Kibb react. The other man turned his gaze down and laid his hands in his lap. “I was scared for the both of us. I always thought we would die together.” Elston stopped, remembering the fear he felt in that hallway. Men falling all around him, until he fell too.

“I got killed back there, in the streets. A monster got me and it just... went black.” Kibb was almost too quiet to be heard. “It was strange, dying and then just waking up again totally fine.” There was silence and Kibb looked up. “The fear is just constantly in my head, Elston. Fear for my life, for yours. Fear I would never see you again.”

A tear fell from Kibb’s eyes and he looked down again. Elston sat there, unsure of what to say. Instead of talking, Elston reached out and grabbed Kibb's hand, engulfing the smaller hand in his.

They sat like that for a while, just taking in each others company. The noises in the hall began to die down, most men settling into rooms to eat dinner before going back on duty. Kibb let out a quiet sighed, looking at the door to his room. Elston broke the silence again, worried what Kibb was thinking.

“What's wrong?” Kibb flinched and let go of Elston’s hand. He shook his head and looked over to Elston.

“You know, I was half scared that the others were going to tell the church about us when the Holy Father came here. I know it's stupid, but I was.” Kibb laughed, but no happiness was in it. Kibb fell back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. “You mean so much to me, and I never want to let you go. I am scared of losing you again.” Kibb quieted as he spoke.

Elston frowned and moved over to Kibb, laying down next to him. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I love you too.” Elston breathed out the words and turned his head to Kibb, who was already looking at him. Kibb pressed his forehead against Elston's and smiled. Elston draped an arm around Kibb and pulled him closer, closing his eyes.

_______________

 

Kelsea entered her room, joints aching with the strain of the past few days. She ran her hand through her hair, feeling the dirt and sweat coating it. She made her way to her bathroom, glad that the bath was already full thanks to Andalie. Kelsea stripped down and sunk into the tub, water warming her.

When she finished her bath, Kelsea looked at the dress Andalie laid out for her. A simple blue dress; a different site than the black dresses she usually wore, but Kelsea was glad for the change. Kelsea dressed and looked at herself in the mirror, frowning. Lily could still be seen in her, the long brown hair and thin cheeks. It put an unpleasant taste in Kelsea’s mouth to remember Lily. Kelsea held her hair and looked back for Andalie. 

“Cut my hair. Please.” Kelsea went and grabbed some scissors, handing them to Andalie who stood by her door. She pulled chair to the mirror and sat. “Make it as short as before. Even shorter if you want.”

Kelsea watched as her hair fell, feeling a joy overtake her. Riding herself of Lily’s presence felt good, like she was taking a weight off of her shoulders. Part of her was glad Lily was gone from her head, but another part was sad to see her go. She felt attached to Lily, but remembering her made her think of what the Tearling was suppose to be. What the Tearling would never be.

The Mace entered her room as Andalie finished up. He stood quietly against the wall watching Kelsea with tired eyes. Kelsea watched him through the mirror, noticing the sag of his shoulders and the dirt that seemed to cover him.

Once Andalie finished, the Mace went to her. “Aisa is back but she isn't like herself.” The Mace looked down as Andalie nodded and turned to Kelsea.

“I'm seeing my daughter now, if you require nothing else.” Andalie spoke calmly, not revealing any emotions in her face. Kelsea nodded and she left, the Mace following her out.

_______________

 

Aisa laid on her bed, a knife clutched in one hand and the other curled inward, hugging a toy protectively. She laid unmoving, eyes wide open, staring straight at the door. Father Tyler sat in a chair, reading aloud from a book.

After the monsters disappeared, Aisa went with some Queen’s Guards to the keep. Once they got to the Queen's wing, Aisa went straight to her room. She's been lying there ever since. Father Tyler came in soon after, keeping her company, waiting for Andalie to arrive.

Aisa didn't know what to do. Everything seemed wrong. The monsters overpowered her, engulfing her and drowned her in darkness. The next thing Aisa remembered was waking up on the ground, no monsters anywhere in sight. 

 

She sat there, crying until Father Tyler found her again. He was accompanied by Kibb who carried Aisa back to the Keep.

It wasn't like Aisa to be confined to a bed. Ever since she was young, she wanted to be out, playing in the streets or doing chores at home. But now she laid unmoving, shivering in the warm summer air. Father Tyler occasionally glanced at her from time to time, hoping to see something different. It never was.

 

Father Tyler couldn't describe how dying felt. There was pain, sure, but something else. Something that slips through your fingers when you try to describe it. Something that creates a pit of dread so big that nothing can shake it. Something that lingers in the people who were reborn after the monsters left.

Father Tyler knew exactly what Aisa was feeling and he could do nothing about it. He felt helpless, unable to protect and help a child that saved his life. Reading to her helped him. Keeping Aisa company was the only thing Father Tyler could do. It was a small thing but it helped.

Aisa knew when her mother found her she would be worried. She knew Father Tyler was worried. But no amount of people worrying over her could help her feel better. The fear was going away but that feeling she couldn't describe wasn't leaving. It trapped her, making her unable to move, the fear of killing herself if she moved. She wasn't scared of the monsters anymore. She was scared of herself.

Andalie came into the room followed by the Mace. They stormed in, startling Father Tyler. Aisa didn't stir at their new presence. 

The Mace stopped when he entered, he couldn't bring himself to move closer. It was his fault, the Mace thought. He brought Aisa onto the guard and he allowed her to be out fighting. It was his fault that Aisa was like this.

Andalie went immediately to Aisa’s side, smoothing her child’s hair and whispering comforting words. But Aisa still laid there, staring out at the wall.

Father Tyler placed a hand on Andalie’s shoulder, hoping it would offer some comfort. A tremor shook through her body, a sob choked out of her mouth, and she dropped her head onto the bed. The room was quiet except for her sobs.

The Mace watched Andalie collapsed, the first time seeing weakness in the woman. Father Tyler looked at the Mace, pleading for him to do something. But the Mace could do nothing, he had no experience comforting people, especially in situations involving children.  
The scene was still for a few moments until the Mace turned away. Taking every ounce of willpower he had, the Mace made his way out of the room back to Kelsea’s room.

_______________

 

“Have you received any word from the Holy Father yet?” Kelsea sat at a desk, paper surrounded her, lists of all kinds were written. The Mace walked over to the desk, struggling to making out a few words on the pages.

“No, not yet.” Kelsea stopped writing, a spot of ink bled deep into the page. Her hand shook and she let the pen drop from her grasp. The Mace kept his breathing even, concealing his concern for Kelsea. “The food preparations are almost ready, but the stores are going to run low soon. There is a lot of work to do.” 

The Mace looked at the list Kelsea was working on, slowly figuring out the words. Kelsea stared at her paper, the list not even halfway done, yet it took up almost the whole page.

“Do not document the deaths yet. You have plenty on your mind without burdening yourself with the dead.” The Mace knelt next to Kelsea, putting his face within her line of sight. “You have done enough for right now. Focus on one thing at a time.”

Kelsea looked at the Mace, their eyes meeting. “There is too much to do to focus on one thing at a time. There are pages of things needing to be accomplished and they all fall onto my shoulders and I fear I am not strong enough to hold up all this weight.” Kelsea felt tears fall from her eyes but didn’t wipe them away. “I fear I will not be able to repair the damaged I caused. I fear I won’t be able to be the queen the Tearling needs. I fear-” Kelsea stopped as the Mace pulled her into a hug. Kelsea deflated at his touch, her head falling onto his shoulder, tears continuing to fall.

“There is no need to fear, Kelsea. You do not carry this weight alone. You have people to help you.” The Mace waited for a reply but got none, just a quiet sob from Kelsea. “I’m here for you and I will do everything in my power to help you get through this.” The Mace took a breath, trying to keep his breathing even. He forced himself to keep his calm demeanor; the queen is at her breaking point, he cannot be at his yet. Not until Kelsea was okay.

“Thank you, Lazarus.” Kelsea’s voice was soft, her head still against the Mace’s shoulder. He squeezed her shoulder, hoping to reassure her. Before anyone could speak more, a knock came from the door.

“The Holy Father is here for your meeting.” A voice called from the hall. Kelsea pushed away from the Mace and wiped her face.

“Thank you. I’ll be right out.” Kelsea called to the door and stood up, the Mace following her. Near the door she turned to the Mace and smiled.

“Are you ready?” The Mace asked watching Kelsea smooth her dress. She nodded and looked at him. 

He saw hope in her eyes, and a deep sadness that seemed to be there ever since they arrived at the Keep all those months ago. The eyes were red and puffy and shone from the tears minutes earlier. Kelsea eyes showed her weaknesses to the Mace, but nevertheless they inspired hope in him. 

The two exited her room, walking through the hall, Queen Guards falling in line behind them as they moved to the meeting hall.

_______________

 

The hall was quiet when Kelsea got there, her footfalls echoed throughout the chamber. The audience gathered in the seats, most wore priest uniforms or symbols of the church. The Holy Father stood in front of the steps, watching Kelsea move to the throne. As Kelsea sat, her guards moved to their posts. The silence continued.

“Well, your majesty, I have come at your request.” The Holy Father bowed slightly, voice sharp and attacking. “What shall we discuss?” 

He stared at her, his eyes cutting into Kelsea, trying to dissect something to gain an advantage. Kelsea held his glare, trying to keep all emotions out of her face, hoping he cannot see that she was crying not even five minutes ago. They stared, keeping silent for a minute.

“Your actions as of late are troublesome. They smell of treason and violence. I cannot sit idly by while your people wreck havoc in New London and try to turn people against me.” Kelsea paused, watching the Holy Father react to her words. “You need to tell your men to stop. Now is not a time for violence and dissent from the crown. We need unity if we hope to recover from the Red Queen’s attack. We need reform and the church and the crown need to work together to achieve it.”

“My Queen, you are mistaken. I am greatly sorry for attack on the Keep by some of the congregation, but I did not tell them to do that. I have the greatest respect for you, my Queen.” The Holy Father stood there, perfect posture and pose. Kelsea scowled at him, hearing the lies role easily off his tongue.

“Now Father, I thought lying was a sin? Why, now, do you do it?” Kelsea stood up and stepped towards the Holy Father. She heard some guards move, ready to intervene. “I am offering you forgiveness to the attacks against the crown if you agree to help me in the reform.”  
The Holy Father watched her move down the steps to him, noting how the guards watch her every movement. He turned his eyes back to Kelsea, getting a clear look at her face. It was stone, not revealing any emotions to him.

“Majesty, What resources do I have that you need? And if you hate me as much as it seems, could you not just disband the church and take the resources you need. No deals, no compromises?” The Holy Father locked his hands behind his back, a sneer on his face.

“You know I cannot do that. The church holds much influence over New London and most of the Tearling. Your opinions carry weight and you also have money. Loads of it, if I am to guess. And I need money and influence.” Kelsea looked around the room, watching the audience. She turned her eyes back to the Holy Father after a moment. “Destroying the church is not an option. There would be great hoards of protests and dissent from the crown. Many people care about the church, probably more than the crown.”

The Holy Father laughed, his mouth bearing an unfriendly smile. “You are pathetic. You need help from an organization you do not even believe in. Why, Kelsea, how-”

“Do not address me as Kelsea.” Kelsea interrupted the Holy Father. “We are not friends. I am your queen, treat me as such.”

“Apologizes, my Queen.” The Holy Father pursed his lips, taken off guard by her interruption. The queen has gotten stronger, he noted. “I am just shocked that you need the church’s help. After all, you are the queen.”

“We are not unlimited in power, money, or influence. I need your help, and you will help me.” Kelsea turned from him, returning to her throne. She waited until she sat to finish her thought. “I need your money to start rebuilding and to help the people of New London. In return, the church will be exempt from taxes until the debt would be payed off. I get money now, and the church still gets exempt from taxes. I believe it is a fair deal, since we both want to best for the Tearling people, correct?” 

Kelsea watched shock fall over the Holy Father’s face and smiled. His shock meant that she was doing well. As the Holy Father recovered, Kelsea kept her smile. She stared at him as he formed an answer.

“I… believe that you are correct. I will agree to these terms.” The Holy Father spoke, defeat in his voice. He looked back to the crowd, searching from some of his men.

“Good. I will contact you again with a contract and some other concerns I have that need to be addressed before the church and the crown can work together and coexist.” Kelsea turned to the Mace and nodded, signaling the end of the meeting.

The Mace stepped in front of Kelsea, announcing to leave to room. From behind him, Kelsea slumped in her chair, tension releasing from her body, excitement building up in her.

The room stayed silent as most of the guards exited, leaving Kelsea alone with minimal protection. The Mace looked at Kelsea in her throne. When he was watching her negotiate with the Holy Father, he felt a surge of pride from her victory over him. The feeling was strange, but welcomed. His whole life, filled with loneliness and violence, the Mace never had a chance to care about someone like this.

Watching Kelsea slump in her throne, talking lightly with her guards, Mace realized how much he cared for Kelsea. She felt like a family he never had the opportunity to have. The feelings were overwhelming, causing the Mace to stand still, trying to stay calm. Caring about someone always brought sadness and disappointment along with it and the Mace was fearful of this.

“Lazarus, do you think we were successful in securing the church as an ally in the reconstruction, or was Holy Father lying about his agreement? You seem to always know when one is lying?” Kelsea’s questions broke the Mace out of his thoughts, forcing him to focus on the present. Kelsea was watching him, head leaning on her hand.

“I think he is willing to help us, but I do not think we can push too much with those other concerns you mentioned.” The Mace forced himself to go into the proper stance, his muscles straining against fatigue. His armor suddenly felt hundreds of pounds heavier, his tiredness finally catching up to him.

“Yes, those concerns. On some, I will be willing to let them go, but others my stance is hard and I won’t compromise.” Kelsea sat up in her throne, leaning forward to watch the Mace. “I will discuss those concerns with you later if you want, but now I think you need to rest.” Kelsea stood up from her throne, stretching a bit. The Mace nodded, too tired to insist he did not need any rest. He motioned to the other guards to follow them out of the hall.

The group returned to the Queen’s wing, Kelsea leaving her guards and returning to her room. The Mace had an urge to follow her, to make sure she wasn’t staying up writing lists and trying to fix everything by herself, but his body ached and he did not know how much longer he could stay standing.

The Mace returned to his room, a familiar sight that he hadn’t seen in days. It was refreshing to lay down, the tension on his body dissipating. But his mind ran rampant with the problems that needed to be addressed: New London’s rebuilding, the return of the farmers, the food problem, the money problem, Kelsea’s mental state, and Aisa. It was overwhelming, the list seemed to go on and on with more problems than they could fix, but eventually the Mace drifted off into his first sleep in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story became pretty long as I continued to write it and I still have more, so like hmu if you like it, or even if you didn't like it. I love this book series but no one knows it and i makes me sad.
> 
> Sorry if my writing style changed a lot during this, I wrote this over a long period of time. This is the first piece of writing I ever posted so I hope you liked it. If you found a writing mistake please let me know
> 
> I have more to write in this but it will probably take some time because I can never sit down and write.
> 
> Also shout out to Lorde because her music reminded me of Kelsea so I actually finished this first chapter.
> 
> I also wrote part of a high school au because I am garbage and love to create content for this book series no one knows. I'll probably post that eventually.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone struggles to live on, taking the first steps in the reconstruction of the Tearling and the first steps to deal with the demons in their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realized i was using the wrong name for Andalie who I was calling Adalaide. I went and corrected all that from both chapters because damn how stupid was that

Kelsea woke in a cold sweat, her breathing heavy. She stared at her ceiling, trying to prevent herself from a panic attack.

Her dreams were full of dark corners and screams following her. She saw her friends drop dead in front of her as those monsters ripped them apart. She was always safe, nothing could touch her, so she suffered by watching her kingdom fall by the hands of a monster she released.

Kelsea snapped out of her thoughts, forcing herself to stop thinking of her dream. Her face was wet with tears, but her heart and slowed and her breathing was normal.

Kelsea got out of her bed, making her way to a chair where Andalie had already laid out her outfit. Unpon dressing, Kelsea looked herself over in her mirror. Her hair was short, shorn close to her scalp, sharp contrast to the long flowing locks she had yesterday. She ran a hand through it, examining her face for other signs of Lily, surprised when she found none. She allowed herself a small smile before she looked at her exposed arms, bruises and scars covering them. Kelsea got a wave of insecurity, flashing her back to all those months ago when she first got to the Keep. 

A knock came to the door, pulling Kelsea out of her thoughts. She rubbed her arms, feeling the scabs and scars before answering.

“Come in.” Kelsea called to the door. She made a final glance at the mirror before turning to great whoever knocked.

The Mace stood in front of her, amorless and well rested. He still stood in the proper position, respectful and obeying. Kelsea always hated watching the guards do this for her, but it was a practice she couldn't stop even if she requested it to.

“Can we talk about the other concerns you wish to discuss with the Holy Father?” The Mace stood still, waiting for a reply. Kelsea smiled and pulled a paper from her desk, shoving it in her pocket.

“Of course Lazarus. Over breakfast, if you will. Call the other guards to join us, I want to discuss these with them too.” Kelsea replied to the Mace, who just nodded and left the room. Kelsea smiled again and followed his lead, heading to the dining room.

The guards sat at the long table, each looking foreign to Kelsea. No one was dressed in their armor, which caught Kelsea off guard. It looked like a regular dinner party, or how Kelsea thought a dinner party would look like given that she never had one before. Kelsea laughed quietly at her thoughts and sat at the head of the table.

The breakfast was served and all of the men looked at Kelsea, waiting for her to start this meeting. Kelsea simply smiled to her guard and began eating.

“What are your concerns? We cannot be trying forcing the Holy Father into doing drastic things. He is uneasy as it is, whatever you want him to do might make him backout of the deal.” The Mace asked Kelsea, not waiting for her to start the conversation.

“Well, I have a list and I want this discussion to be about adding things to this list and explaining what I have on already.” Kelsea pulled the paper out of her pocket and unfolded it, laying it on the table next to her plate. The guards looked on, genuinely curious at what Kelsea wanted.

“My first concern is of the secrecies and cult like demeanor of the inner church. More transparency in their practices and dealings will help me trust the church.” Kelsea looked at the Mace, unable to read his face, so she continued. “I am willing to compromise and have more transparency within the Keep too.” Kelsea took another bite of her food, waiting for the Mace to respond.

“Tread carefully with this, Kelsea. The church has always been secretive, but if you convince him to go along with this then it will be beneficial to us.” The Mace watched Kelsea write something down and then look up again, directly a nod to him.

“Concern number two: the church should open its doors to anyone that is seeking faith.” Kelsea heard some mumbled agreements from her guard and the Mace just gave a nod. “Next, the church should give back to the community. Helping the poor and sick is a start. The church preaches caring so they should show their words through their actions.”

Kelsea looked up from her list, taking in her guard's reactions to her concerns. Most seemed pleased with her demands, while some wore neutral faces. The Mace was the only one to wear a frown.

“These are a lot of demands for the Holy Father to accept, especially given the deal you just made with him. These would cause a lot of internal changes to the church.” The Mace spoke bluntly, looking directly at Kelsea. Kelsea appreciated it, for honestly is better than being lied to. Kelsea stiffened in her seat and nodded to the Mace.

“Well, given that, my final demand may seem like a lot.” Kelsea let out a light laugh. The Mace continued to frown, waiting. She turned her head down, reading off of her list. “My final demand is for the Holy Father to publicly apologize for prosecuting homosexuals. Along with this, he will stop preaching that they are a sin and will not encourage violence towards them.” Kelsea looked up from her list at the Mace.

She expected the frown or even shock from the Mace, but Kelsea found that he looked pleased with her. It shocked her for a moment, but she forced herself to continue, wanting to further explain herself before the Mace could tell her this was too big of a demand.

“This is something I must have if the church and crown are going to coexist. Since I first head of this prosecution, I did not think highly it, but when the Holy Father accused my own guards of being sinners and wanting to prosecute them, this became a personal issue and I won’t allow the church to think low of any of my guards.” Kelsea paused, allowing herself the look at her guards. They sat still, faces neutral, listening to her speak. In her silence, a few glanced at each other but quickly returned their gaze back to her. It was silent for a few moments before Kelsea continued, looking at the Mace. “Lazarus, do you feel like this will make the Holy Father back out?” 

“I don't know the answer to that, but I think this stance is a righteous one. The church has shamed and hunted homosexuals for years, contrasting a preaching of love and acceptance. Doing this is progress at making New London better.” The Mace leaned back in his chair, the frown not as harsh as before. Kelsea smiled to him, relieved he did not answer no.

“Well, thank you all for hearing these concerns. If any of you have other concerns you wish to address about the church, you may write them down and deliver it to me.” Kelsea pushed her seat away from the table, preparing to leave. She took one last look at her guards and stood up, leaving the dining room without a second glance to the others there.

_______________

Father Tyler sat in the silent room, reading silently to himself. Sometime during the night he had stopped reading aloud, assuming that Aisa was either asleep or deaf to the world. Andalie’s pleading and comforting had done nothing to change Aisa. Father Tyler eventually persuaded Andalie to leave and get sleep, assuring her that he would not leave Aisa’s side.

And leave he did not. For the whole night, he sat with Aisa, watching over her. He did not fall asleep, too many of his demons appeared when he closed his eyes. The events of the past few weeks seemed to have caught up with him. Images of the dark tunnels he hid in with Father Seth and the horrible childlike creatures that torn threw him like paper. 

So instead of focusing on his demons, Father Tyler read. The books he chose were cheerful ones, full of love and family. He hoped the books comforted Aisa, hoped his reading will let her know she isn’t alone. Aisa’s behavior remained unchanged, but Father Tyler never gave up hope easily.

When Aisa did move, it startled Father Tyler. The movement was unprompted; a sudden turn of the body so that Aisa was on her back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. 

Father Tyler watched the child, praying that whatever spell she was under had lifted. It was a foolish prayer by a foolish old man who knew he was too optimistic in situations like these.

“Do you still believe in an afterlife?” The questions was a soft whisper, almost too quiet to be heard.

Father Tyler looked at Aisa, her face was in agony, a mix of pain and sadness. It broke Father Tyler’s heart to look at it, but he kept his gaze on her.

“I do not know.” Father Tyler answered her, trying to keep his voice calm. Aisa remained motionless for a moment before her eyes moved to meet his. He saw tears in her eyes and desperation. He almost spoke again, to change his answer it that meant he would relieve some pain from the child.

“You felt it too. What dying was like? The pain and then… something.” Aisa moved her eyes back to the ceiling. “I can’t describe what death feels like, but it does not feel like heaven. It feels like… a void you aren’t meant to get back from.” Aisa’s voice faded into nothing as she spoke.

“But we did get back.” Father Tyler moved forward in his seat. “Please, stop dwelling on death. We are alive, Aisa. You are alive.” Desperation filled his voice, pleading for Aisa to return to normal.

Aisa didn’t respond to him. Father Tyler sighed, putting his head on his hands. His heart ached for Aisa. Seeing this once strong and lively child confined to her bed by her mind was maddening. He longed to see her fight again, practicing with the queen’s guard, a smile firmly on her face. Yet even in his longing, he knew Aisa would not be the same. This acknowledgment seemed to hurt him to most.

Aisa was far too young to be damaged this much from the world. Since she was young, she only knew pain and fear. Her father was a menace that tortured Aisa throughout her childhood. Coming to the Keep meant a life away from him. Here she found happiness and freedom, only to have it be taken away shortly after when the attacks came. And she was back again, knowing only pain and fear that trapped her within herself.

“Father Tyler, I am scared.” Aisa choked out her words before her tears came. It was only a few tears before she stopped and became motionless again. Father Tyler watched her with concern.

“I am sorry, my child. There is not need to be afraid; all your fears are gone now.” Father Tyler reached over to Aisa and gripped her hand, squeezing it tight.

They stayed like that for a moment until Aisa spoke again, her voice stronger than before. “Can you please read again? The stories were helpful.” 

Father Tyler smiled and let go of her hand, opening the book he had on his lap. “Of course, my child.”

_______________

The guards stood at attention in the corridor, lines straight, back against the wall. The Mace walked between the two lines, confirming that everyone called was there. Reaching the end of the lines, he turned around and clasped his hands behind his back.

The guards stayed quiet, waiting for the Mace to speak. From where Elston stood, some men were fidgeting in their spots, unable to keep still.

The fidgeting wasn’t a new thing, appearing time after time after a battle was fought. Unsteady hands and jumbes of unsettled nerves made it impossible for the men to stand still. The movement becoming a haunting reminder of how fragile they were, for a single battle could affect them for weeks after.

The most recent one was no different, in some aspect it was the worst battle they have seen. But life continues and the lucky ones still standing had to trudge on. It was a life none would ever get accustomed to, never becoming immune to the hardships of battle, only getting better at hiding the effects it had on them.

Elston stared straight ahead, noting the men he can see shifting ever so slightly in the silence. He would talk to them later, he decided, making sure they could have someone the talk to. To know they were not alone.

“We have plenty to do today to help the queen start the reform and rebuilding of the Tearling. The guard will be spread thin today, but I have faith in you all to execute the tasks fully and efficiently.” The Mace’s stern eyes looked over the men along the walls. He stays silent for a moment before speaking again, calling out assignments for the men.

Elston listened intently for his assignment, glad to have work to distract him from his wandering mind. He was pretty sure the whole guard was. Yet he almost flinched at his assignment: delivering a contract to the Holy Father about the agreement made yesterday.

He was not afraid of the church; there was too many other things to be afraid of than an establishment. He despised the church, distrusting the power it held over far too much of the Tearling and the terrible policies and preaching it held. The church unsettled him. How could one be content with an establishment that denies your own rights for no logical reason? However, Elston felt more at ease knowing Kipp would accompany him on this task, making the journey to see the Holy Father bearable.

It was not long before Elston was fully clad in his armor again, waiting for Kibb outside his room. The contract and the list of concerns Kelsea read off were stuffed into a bag that slung over Elston’s shoulder.

His armor was stained badly from the previous fights. Old blood stains, unable to be fully scrubbed clean, created copper patches on his torso. Scratches, too many to count, riddled the metal. The amor wasn’t presitine, but it got the job done and Elston couldn’t complain.

Kibb stepped out of his room, dressed in a matching set of armor. He held two swords in his hands, handing one over to Elston once he got within reach. Attaching the swords their belts, the pair made their way to the exit of the queen’s wing.

They were silent on the way out of the Keep, focusing on their job ahead. It would be an easy one, both knew that, still, they were not joyous about their assignment. Both disliked the church, for personal and moral reasons, and to see the Holy Father was no want of theirs. 

“You ever been inside the church before?” Kibb asked once they left the Keep. He looked over at Elston, gently bumping their arms together.

“No. Never wanted to either.” Elston’s reply was grumbled out, making Kibb smile, finding humor in his cold reply.

“Yeah, me neither.” Kibb looked forward again. “Always wanted to. Just to see what kind of place all those holy people lived in. Probably looks pretty fancy.”

Elston laughed at Kibb’s comment, making the other man turn to him again, a smile on his face.

“Well, now we get a chance to see if your prediction is true.” Elston smiled, matching Kibb’s.

They walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the church, arms brushing against each other every so often. The people out in the streets of New London watched them pass, practically gawking at their presence. Elston found it amusing while Kibb seemed to grow more confident, standing up slightly taller, holding his head higher. It brought a smile to Elston’s lips, barely visible to the public around them.

While their walk over calmed some of his nerves, Elston got a new wave of nervousness as he stared at the grand wooden doors towering above him. Beside him, Kibb knocked hard on the door. The vibrations shook the wood in front of them for a moment until the door was opened inward.

The pair stepped into the entrance of the church, eyes adjusting to the dim light inside once the door shut behind them. Torches and candles hung around the walls, illumination the lobby, creating deep shadows in the corners.

Various statues stood against the walls, white marble against white walls. Colorful paintings broke the clean white display, showing scenes from religious stories. It was a sight for Elston. The atmosphere felt unlike a space for worship. The sharp white statues and the ancient paintings seemed to belong in a museum, not a holy place. Kibb was correct in his guess, it was fancy.

“If you may follow me.” A young priest stood in front of them, dressed in robes similar to those of Father Tyler. The pair nodded and followed the priest to a staircase.

The three men were quiet on their climb, but at ever floor they reached, noise was heard down each corridor. It puzzled Elston the source of these noisy outbreaks, but he kept ascending, following the priest and Kibb up the stairs.

They were lead off the staircase nowhere near the top. The floor they exited on was quieter than some of the others, but there was still noises heard through doors and down halls. The walls had drapery aligning them, their prominent red blocking out the white seen elsewhere on the walls.They were lead to a room where two priests stood in front of. They wore neutral expressions, staring at the two guards as they approached.

The priest leading them knocked lightly on the door, opening it seconds later when a reply was heard within. Elston followed Kibb into the room, hearing the door closed behind them.

The Holy Father sat at an empty desk, hands folded neatly atop it. His eyes narrowed, watching the two guards move to stand at the opposite side of the desk. He looked up at them and smiled venomously.

“Take a seat, will you not? You two must be awfully tired from the walk here and the climb up the steps. Please.” He gestured to the chairs behind them, smile still stuck to his face.

Elston and Kibb followed the Holy Father’s request, sitting down lightly in the chairs. Elston felt his nervousness spike again, taking an even breath to hide his apprehension.

“We are here to deliver-”

“Yes, I know why you are here. No need for pleasantries. Bring it out. Let me read it over.” The Holy Father interrupted Kibb, reaching out a hand for the contract.

Elston watched Kibb stiffen in his chair, displeased to be interrupted by the Holy Father. Elston pulled out the papers he held in his bag. Handing the contract to the Holy Father, he set the list of demands on the edge of the desk. The man across from him raised an eyebrow at it, not expecting more papers.

“And what is that?”

“The list of concerns the queen has about the practices of the church.” Elston’s voice came out harsh. “She demands you meet these concerns so that the crown and the church can work peacefully together.”

The Holy Father gave a nod and returned his attention to the contract he held in his hand. He began to read it through, leaving a thick silence hanging in the room.

In the silence, Elston and Kibb look at eachother. Elston could see some nervousness in Kibb, guessing his own face parallels Kibb’s. They tear their eyes back to the Holy Father when the contract was placed on the desk.

“A fair contract.” The Holy Father nodded with his words. “Now let us see about these concerns the queen has.” 

He snatched the paper from across the desk, reading through it quickly. His expression remained neutral as he read.

“These are quite the demands, don’t you two think. Very dangerous to demand so much at one time.” The Holy Father’s words were slow, carefully thought out. “The last one is a shock. ‘The church will publicly apologize for prosecuting homosexuals and stop the preaching that they are sin.’” The Holy Father read from the page, lifting his eyes to look between the two guards. “You two must be especially gracious for the queen to want this policy.”

The Holy Father settled back against his chair. Elston’s glare did not waver from the Holy Father, but feared at Kibb’s did. It was malicious territory they were treading on, both not wanting to do anything to give the man leverage against them.

“We are in support of whatever the queen issues.” Elston replied after a hesitation. The Holy Father’s smile dropped at his words. He leaned forward suddenly, staring directly at Elston.

“Now listen here, you don’t have to lie to me. I know about you two. If I had wanted to prosecute or hurt you, I would have done so the second you entered this building.” He spit his words at Elston, anger in his eyes. “I do not like to be lied to.”

Elston’s throat felt tight, unable to speak. He focused on remaining calm, keeping his breathing even and eyes focused. He tried formulating a response when Kibb spoke up, forcing the Holy Father’s attention to the other man.

“The church’s doctrine about homosexuals is closed minded and hateful. This change the the queen wishes is to better the message of the church and to make the Tearling a safe home for everyone. It also happens that we benefit from this policy change, but we would still happily live even if the church continues to persecute us.” Kibb leaned forward, matching the posture of the Holy Father. “And do not threaten the queen’s guard. While the queen is hesitant about hurting you, the guard does not have any problem with it.”

Kibb sat back in his chair, turning his head to Elston, who stared at him. A smirk rose to Kibb’s face before it disappeared underneath a steady, neutral face. Elston turned his stare to the Holy Father, who sat across from them, silent, face neutral again.

“The queen will give you a week to think over these concerns. She wishes for your reply sooner than that, but knows there is much to think over. If you will sign the contract then we will be on our way. The crown will contact the church about the usage of your funds for the reform shortly.” Elston stood, seeing Kibb from the edge of his vision doing the same. The Holy Father remained quiet, quickly signing the contract and pushing it away. Slipping the contract into his bag, Elston turned to the door.

Elston and Kibb opened the door to the room and stepped through, hearing the Holy Father spit at them as they left. The corridor was quiet when they walked down it, conversations once behind doors now silent.

The descent was much like their their climb up: silent and long, yet this time Elston and Kibb walked side by side, the metal of their armor sliding against one another as they walked.

_______________

The day dragged on, meeting after meeting preparing and planning for the rebuilding of the Tearling. The Mace accompanied Kelsea to the meetings, standing behind her, observing, occasionally conferenced with.

It was early evening when the meetings stopped, called off by the Mace, seeing how defeated and worn out Kelsea looked after each meeting adjourned. Kelsea gave no verbal thanks to him, but her smile as she secluded herself in her room gave the Mace no doubt that she appreciated the stop to the meetings.

With Kelsea safe in her room, the Mace went to his own, avoiding the other guards, who sat in an refurbished meeting room that became a common area for them. He enjoyed solitude, the company of himself was preferable to a room full of talking men.

His room was sparsely furnished; a bed, a mirror, and a dresser made up the room. The Mace walked right into the familiar environment, taking off his armor before sitting on his bed. His body relax once he sat, tension releasing.

He could feel his muscles aching, his age and recent events of the past week taking its toll on his body. The pain was a nuisance, causing the Mace the push it away, focusing on his tasks not his body.

The aches and pains flooding back into his perception once he sat on his bed, no distractions to cover the pain. The Mace grunted as he positioned himself, leaning his back against the wall, legs outstretched in front of him. He sat in the quiet of his room, rolling his shoulders and rubbing at muscles. 

Dealing with the aches of his body was a distraction itself. His focus on his pains prevented him from thinking thoughts he wishes not to dwell on. Yet in his room with many hours left in the day, being relieved of his duty and responsibilities for the time being, the Mace was treading dangerously close to these thoughts. His struggle against his mind stopped when he looked down at his bed, memories of Aisa laying deathly still in hers flooded his mind.

Even the news from Father Tyler that Aisa had spoken and moved did not ease his guilt he had towards Aisa. Under his authority, the girl was taken into the queen’s guard, taught how to fight, and let off into the streets of New London, into the Creach. She was made to grown up far too quickly and now lays damaged in bed, broken by what she experienced. The Mace blamed himself for all of it.

He stared down at his hands, lost in thought. Absentmindedly tracing the scars along his hands, his thoughts turned to Kelsea. The lost and uncertain girl he saw in her room, breaking down in front of him. Her usually strong, steely demeanor cracking under the pressure of the months as queen finally breaking apart. The revelation that Kelsea had reached her breaking point staggered his perception of the girl. 

The Mace’s guilt extended to Kelsea. Forcing her to go from a quiet life in the woods to ruling a kingdom as suddenly as he did seemed cruel. Her months as queen riddled with hardships and fights, and at no time did the Mace try to shield her from the harsh realities of being queen. He held her into the spotlight, unwilling to block it.

At the time, his philosophy was to let her see the harsh truths of her new life. He did not consider the impact it would have on her. The Mace regretted not easing the transition for Kelsea, to explain and help her take in the world better.

Now, in his room alone, the Mace faced these realities, taking blame for everything he did not do or could not control. His own irrationality was not evident to him; his wish to protect and save all the people affected by hardships was impossible, yet he still took the burden.

A knock came to his door, breaking the Mace from his thoughts. His confusion of the knock dissipated when Coryn walked in, not waiting for a reply to enter

The man stood next to the doorway, leaning against a wall, looking at the Mace. The Mace did not move from his position, only turning his head to look at Coryn.

“You are missing the fun shutting yourself in your room.” Coryn smiled, face warming with his words. “Come out and have some fun.”

Coryn pushed himself off the wall, making his way over to the bed. The Mace followed his movement, not returning the smile.

“I am fine by myself.”

“You may be fine, but are you alright?” Coryn’s crossed along his chest, smile gone. His eyes stare at the Mace, burning into him, knowing Coryn knows the demons of his mind.

“Of course I am.”

His lie was unconvincing, given after a moment of hesitation. Coryn immediately shook his head to him, reaching out an arm.

Seeing no other option, lest he tells Coryn all the troubles of his mind, the Mace grabbed onto the extended arm, pulling himself off of the bed.

Releasing the arm, Coryn lead the way out of his room, following the sounds of conversation and laughed emitting from a doorway down the hall.

_______________

It was quiet in the library; most people retired to their rooms hours ago. Kelsea sat in a chair, a book open in her hands. The library was empty except for her, tucked away in the corner. Her eyes stayed on the pages as she tried to read, but her mind was elsewhere, trying to comprehend all that she is feeling.

She felt like crying, if she was honest. She felt like leaning into someone’s arms and releasing everything she has kept up inside her. But she had no one to hug her and no one to listen.

The Mace entered the library quietly, knowing he would find Kelsea there. Kelsea didn’t stir at his entrance, her eyes still trained at her book. Before moving to a seat near Kelsea, he coughed, alerting Kelsea to his presence.

The Mace sat down, not taking his eyes off Kelsea. The sun had set long ago and it had been hours since anyone was seen in the halls, yet Kelsea stayed up. It worried the Mace more than he would like it to.

“Are you alright?” The Mace asked it bluntly, getting straight to the point of this meeting.  
The question took Kelsea off guard. She thought the last thing Lazarus would want to talk about would be her feelings. Yet, this concern from him felt nice. It was unlike other concern Kelsea had seen from him. It wasn't about her safety or the situation they were in. This concern seemed genuine but apprehensive, like he was unsure if he should be feeling it.

“No.” Kelsea said after a stretch of silence, electing to go with the truth rather than seeming strong. She exhaled, hoping to keep her emotions pushed away. She didn't want to cry, not yet.

The Mace looked at Kelsea, unfamiliar with what to do next. He was never the one to comfort someone, choosing to stay away from emotional situations. But he had started this conversation and if Kelsea wanted to be truthful about her emotions, then the Mace knew he needed to try to help her.

“Do you want to… talk about it?” The Mace asked, hesitantly. Kelsea’s eyes seemed to tear up at his question.

“I'm scared, Lazarus. The world seems to be watching me and I am scared to mess it up.” Kelsea looked down, avoiding his eyes. She thumbed the pages of her book. “I don't think I can do all of this. Sometimes I just wish I was back in the cottage deep in the woods, where I had Barty and Carlin and everything seemed to be at peace and simpler.” Kelsea’s eyes burned as she held back tears.

The Mace listened to her, understanding how pressured she felt. He found that is strangely hurt him to hear Kelsea upset, his chest tight at the sound of her wavering voice.

“I have no one here that I can talk to or feel comfortable around. I may be the queen but I feel like an intruder to a closely knit family I only just met.” Kelsea wipes a stray tear away from her cheek. She moved her head up again to look at the man in front of her. He held her gaze for a moment. Kelsea looked at his eyes, seeing a sadness in them.

“I have felt that way my whole life.” The Mace looked down for a moment before returning to Kelsea. “An outsider to a group. No connection to anyone. It is an awful feeling to have.” 

The Mace smiled. It was small and didn't meet his eyes, but it was reassuring, nonetheless. She was preparing to speak when the Mace started again.

“I am not good with these things; emotions and comforting. I am willing to learn, if that means you will not feel alone.” The Mace paused, looking away from Kelsea, who had tears in her eyes. “I have come to care for you, over these months, and when you talk about your sadness and fears, it affects me. I am not entirely sure as of why it does, but I know it does and that is strange for me. To feel for someone else’s struggles. I took an oath to protect the queen, but it seems like I cannot protect you from your own emotions and it hurts me. I am sorry if I have overstepped, but I am willing to take the place that Barty and Carlin once had: to be your family.”

The silence that stretched long after the Mace stopped talking was killing him. It seemed to continue for ages, making him regret his words. His eyes moved around the room, landing anywhere but Kelsea.

Kelsea was shocked by his words, her eyes burning and emotion making her throat tight and heart hurt. The word family kept repeating in her mind. Lazarus wanted to be her family. Family.

Her biological family was either dead or dead to her. Her father killed by her own will and her mother a disgrace. She burned with anger when she thought of her blood, disgusted by their choices.

Barty and Carlin were different. They filled Kelsea’s life with love and warmth, preparing her for her destiny. She had loved them more than words could describe, and they had loved her back, just as ferociously. But they were gone now, long dead but never forgotten.

Kelsea thought of the families she read about in her books. Some were blood, sticking together through whatever life threw at them because they were blood. Others were made up of friends, people who found strength in each other and through their friendship they conquered the day. They came together when their lives went to shit and they had no one left.

Kelsea almost laughed as she compared herself to these perfect family pictures she envisioned. It seemed so easy to have a family when she was young, naive to the difficulties in life and the cruelties the world held.

Kelsea brought herself out of her thoughts, focusing on Lazarus. She steadied herself, forming what she was going to say. His eyes snapped to her when she began to speak.

“Lazarus, you have never, and will never, overstep. My whole life, I had questions about who my family was. It was a mystery to me and when I was given the information I so dearly searched for my entire life, the result left me empty and angry. The perfect family I envisioned crumbled in my hands and I regretted ever wanting to know what my family was. I regretted not being content with the family I knew, of Barty and Carlin.” Kelsea’s voice wavered at their names, fresh tears already in her eyes. She took a breath before continuing.

“I believe I am ready to have a family and cherish it. Having you be my family is a miracle I do not deserve but I will take it.” Kelsea sat still, looking at Lazarus. Her heart was wild in her chest; happiness and nervousness consuming her.

The Mace looked at Kelsea, a foreign feeling of happiness spread through him. The reality of Kelsea acceptance hit him, making his eyes water before he could control himself.  
Before the Mace could will his tears away, Kelsea was on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. She was laughing as she hugged, burying her face into his shoulder. It took him a moment to relax in her embrace and hug her back. They sat like this until Kelsea’s laugher had dissipated and the room became silent once more.

“I should go to bed. I have a day full of meetings and preparations again tomorrow.” Kelsea’s voice was muffled against the Mace’s shoulder. He let go of Kelsea, allowing her to push off him and stand up. “Good night, Lazarus.” She smiled to him before exiting, a stark contrast to what she was like when the Mace entered. Her smile warmed the Mace, making him feel good for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter became really long all of a sudden and I'm sorry.
> 
> I hope the jump of character perspectives isn't that confusing. I just have a lot of ideas involving a lot of characters and this seems like the best way to try to capture all the story lines.
> 
> I also wanted to put Coryn in this more because I just want the Mace to have a friend, but I need to glance over the books again to remember what is canon about his character.
> 
> I really appreciate people reading this and enjoying it because I've been writing this for an embarrassingly long time and it is the first story of mine I felt confident enough to post.
> 
> Sorry if there is spelling mistakes or anything off, I try to catch everything but I doubt I did.
> 
> The next chapter will be out sometime soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone talks about their emotions. The result: healing? Hopefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took awhile to complete but here it is. While I was writing this, looked through all the books and took some notes. Some stuff I found:  
> 1) Mace is written as 'Mace' and 'The Mace' throughout the book. I've been using 'The Mace' but now I'm just going to be using 'Mace'. One word is much simpler.  
> 2) I put this as a note in the previous chapter after I posted it, but I'm stupid and used the name 'Adelaide' for the character 'Andalie'. I changed every Adelaide to Andalie. I felt really stupid when I found out I was using the wrong name.  
> 3) I remembered Kelsea's treasurer Arliss. What a weird guy!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It is very Queen's Guard centric, so I'm sorry if that's not your taste. I love them and I wish we got more of them in the books.  
> Sorry if there is any spelling or grammar mistakes, I tried to catch everything but, alas, I probably didn't

Kelsea looked up from the document she was reading, another loud thud sounded from the hall. Kelsea sighed and resumed reading. Arliss, sitting beside her, laughed, amused by her frustration.

“The commotion of the Keep upsetting you, Queenie?”

Kelsea looked up again, directing her glare at the man. He only smiled to her.

“I do not have a problem with the activity, but if they could just keep it down outside a meeting room.” Kelsea slid the document away, leaning back into her chair. Arliss gathered the paper again, pushing himself up from the table.

“The noisiness of the Keep shows how much progress you are making. Be proud, not annoyed.” Arliss turned away from Kelsea before she could reply, making a quick exit.

Kelsea let out another sigh and made her own way out of the room, readying herself for another meeting.

The past week had consumed Kelsea. Long, busy days followed by quiet nights, staying awake with the troubles of the Tearling. The church’s compliance to their contract had alleviate a portion of Kelsea’s worries, yet the church was still a nuisance to her. No reply about her concerns have come, but Elston and Kibb assured her upon their return that the Holy Father was inclined to accept. 

The final preparations on the return of the remaining farmers and refugees from the Tearling were being completed outside the Keep. Food and seeds were collected to distribute to the evacuated, since what they were returning to would not be a pretty sight. The Red Queen’s army had done immense damage to the crops and border villages. 

Along her way to the library, Kelsea was stopped by Mace. He was clad in full armor, his namesake weapon attached to his hip. Behind him stood Coryn and another newer guard Kelsea did not remember the name to. 

“We are ready to be on our way, Lady.” Mace looked down to Kelsea, eyes softening. “You are sure you wish for us to accompanying the people back? We could scrounge up some men from the army if you would rather have us stay here?”

“Nonsense. The army has enough to get done and I am entrusting the three of you to protect and help those people. You will help them start to rebuild. Check the other villages in the Almont, supply them with building materials and rations. You will return home when you are sure everything will continue smoothly.” Kelsea smiled, looking at the three of them. They all looked back at her, Coryn returning her smile.

“Yes, Lady. We will be off.” Coryn spoke before Mace could say anything else. He and the newer guard continued on their path out of the queen’s wing. Mace stayed in front of Kelsea.

“I will see you soon, Lazarus.”

Kelsea smiled up at the man. Her smile shone brighter than she felt, but she continued until Mace squeezed her shoulder and took off. Their absence would be felt, however Kelsea knew the rest of her guards will make up for the missing three. The successful rebuilding of the destroyed villages would be the first large step towards rebuilding the Tearling. The importance of this action was not lost to anyone. She entrusted Mace and Coryn to complete this task effectively. Kelsea had no fear of being underprotected by her guard. She was no longer worried about her own safety, only the safety and health of her kingdom.

_______________

Mace sat atop his horse, surveying the group of people he would be escorting back home. Many of the evacuated had returned home shortly after the Mort army retreated, but others stayed in New London for longer. The ones that returned earlier were informed to try to salvage any crops they could and start cleaning up the villages. Mace was curious how far the farmers and others who traveled back earlier had gotten in their tasks.The ones returning now gathered in a grand clump behind Mace’s horse and the supply carts. The people held various amounts of possessions they had brought with upon their evacuation. Some had their own carts, others only carried the clothes on their back.

“Everything’s set. We can head out.” Coryn pulled his horse alongside Mace. Despite the amount of rest the queen was giving to the guards, Coryn still looked tired. His eyes looked shallow and he sat slumped in his saddle. Mace observed this quickly before speaking.

“Move out!” His voice projected far, alerting the cart drivers and the people behind him. The carts crept forward, Mace and Coryn followed the pace on their horses.

The third guard, a new recruit the name of Xavier, bounded up to Mace and Coryn, settling in to Mace’s other side. He gave a nod to the two before taking in his surroundings, childlike wonder in his eyes.

Coryn smirked as he watched Xavier, amazed how the boy could be so captured by such a familiar sight. Mace glanced at Coryn, raising his own brow as a response. The two looked at each other before looking ahead, settling in for the long, slow ride.

The riding was slow, accommodating the people trekking on foot behind him. The group had traveled a few miles out of the city when night fell. With the dangers of traveling in the dark and knowing the journey was not a rushed one, the group stopped to set up camp early. The three guards made camp separate from the evacuees, close to the road, to watch for trouble.

The villagers made camp quickly, soon the darkness was illuminated with fires; talking and the smell of food filled the air. Mace sat with his back turned to the noise, staring off into the darkness. Coryn was somewhere within the evacuees, offering medical aid to anyone needing it. He had been gone for a good hour before returning, a tray of food in his hand. Xavier sat near Mace, clearly captured by the sounds behind him, but he stared into the darkness along with Mace.

“Some of the people gave me food as thanks.” Coryn sat down in the space between Mace and Xavier. The tray of food was placed on the ground next to him.

Mace made a glance at Coryn and the food before turning away. He shifted his position slightly when he felt Coryn watching him.

“Xavier, go through the camp to making sure everything is secure for the night.” Coryn spoke quietly to the young man. “If you happen to linger among the evacuees, we would not know.”

Mace could practically hear the wink Coryn gave to Xavier, a sign to leave them alone for a while. Mace rolled his eyes before closing them, waiting for Coryn to speak.

But the silence continued. Unrelenting.

Mace opened his eyes, making sure the other man was still there. He saw Coryn watching the dark horizon. He didn’t move when Mace shifted to face him.

“What is this about, Coryn. Are you worried about this trip?” 

“I am not worried about that.” Coryn responded quicker than Mace expected. He still studied the darkness. “I am worried about Aisa, though.”

Mace stiffened, hands curling around the grass beneath them. He took a deep breath, casting his eyes down to the ground.

“Father Tyler reports progress. She seems to be getting better.” Mace’s throat felt tight, causing him to swallow before continuing. “Hopefully she will be back to her old ways soon enough.”

Though Mace spoke these words, he did not believe them. The progress had been small. More talking, a few movements. Andalie seemed to be getting through to her more, but she was still bedridden. Father Tyler stayed with Aisa, though Mace did not know how. Whenever he saw the girl, once firey with anger and action now motionless in a bed, he was overcome with a feeling of helplessness and guilt. 

“It isn’t your fault.” 

Mace looked up. Coryn was staring at him now, eyes sharp, knowing what he was thinking. Mace shook his head.

“It was my decision for her to join the guard and allow her to go off into the Creach with the Caden. I was the one who allowed her to be out there fighting. She is twelve. That is not an age to be out fighting.” Mace clenched his mouth shut, despising himself for letting what he felt slip out. His emotions had no place coming out, not when there are still things to accomplish.

Coryn didn’t say anything, only turned his head away, allowing Mace to feel his shame without a set of eyes on him.

“She will recover. Aisa has always been one to take things head on.” Coryn’s words were hopeful, something Mace appreciated.

“You have always been an optimist.” 

Mace smiled as he spoke, seeing a smile on the other man’s face. Coryn turned to him, a glint of humor in his eyes.

“One of us has to be.”

With that, their conversation ended. Nothing more needed to be said; these types of conversations never lasted long amongst the guards. Emotional conversations and hope for the future only took their sight away from the present and the tasks at hand.

The two sat watching the night until Xavier returned and the noises from the camp had died away. The three slept very little, electing to keep watch or walk the perimeter instead of sleep.

_______________

Elston stood behind Kelsea as she reviewed with Arliss the taxes he collected so far. It was the third meeting with Arliss that day, held in the dingy room he called an office. Paper piled everywhere and everything seemed to be at different stages of falling apart.

“Thank you Arliss. This is great. We will start the on the plans tomorrow.” Kelsea stood up from her chair, leaning to stretch her back. “Contact me if there is any other issues I need to be informed of. Preferably tomorrow.”

Arliss smiled to the queen and nodded his head. He added the papers Kelsea was looking over to one of the countless stacks.

“Alright, Queenie. Good night.”

Elston followed Kelsea’s lead out of the room. Once in the hall, Elston took the lead, guiding her to one of the many passages hidden in the wall. He opened it, allowing Kelsea to enter first.

Once inside the passage, Kelsea turned to Elston instead of continuing their way to the queen’s wing.

“Do you enjoy being in charge of the queen’s guard in Lazarus’ absence?”

The question caught him off guard. Mace usually shot away any questions Kelsea asked the guard about their personal lives or opinions. Now that he wasn’t here, Kelsea seemed to grab the opportunity to get to know the guards.

“Any position in the queen’s guard I enjoy. Doesn't matter if I lead it or simply follow. Protecting you is the only thing that matters.” Elston shrugged his shoulder. “I know you would rather have Mace in charge. We all do.”

Kelsea looked at him, embarrassment and anger shone in her eyes. Elston was not scared that she was angry with him, knowing his comments were true. She stood for a minute, forming an answer.

“Lazarus is captain and I trust him greatly. As do I trust everyone else. Many would be a great captain of the guard. Especially you, Elston.”

Elston let out a laugh, light and happy. Kelsea looked at him with a confused smile on her face.

“Is there any reason you bring this issue up, Lady?”

“I’m just curious of your thoughts, Elston.” She looked around in the semi-darkness and began to walk forward in the passage. “I have always been curious of how my guards perceive their jobs and I am glad you find joy in simply being a queen’s guard. It’s a wonderful thing to enjoy your work.”

Kelsea fell silent after that. Elston stayed close behind Kelsea as they walked. He let the silence stay until they reached the other opening to the passage, emerging into the queen’s wing.

“Will you be spending the remainder of your night in your chamber, Lady?”

“Hm? Oh yes. You are dismissed Elston.” Kelsea turned to look at him as she spoke. “Thank you.” 

Her lips twitched into a slight smile before she turned and made her way to her Chamber. Elston watched her go, making sure she entered the chamber without problem. When the door shut behind the queen, Elston made his way to his room, relieved of his duty for the day.

Ten minutes passed until Elston sat in the old meeting room recently converted to a common area. There was less conversations than usual, a somber tone filled the room tonight. Elston watched the other off-duty guards that were lounging around the room. 

The majority of them were young, a good ten years younger than himself, yet they wore somber expression. The recent battles still rattled in their minds. It was upsetting, seeing these bright faced men so burdened with the pains of battle. Their youthful spirit broken away into something Elston had seen for years in all the guards from when Queen Elyssa ruled.

“How are you holding up?” Elston leaned to a young man seated near him. The man turned to him, lips thin and eyes dark.

“I’m okay.” The guard answered stoically, replying with what all guards would answer with. A realm of toxic masculinity still fell around the guard, preventing them from expressing their troubles freely with one another. 

“Do not pull that bullshit with me.” Elston stared the man down, knowing the true answer would come. “How are you holding up?”

At the repetition of his question, the other guard’s walls seemed to collapse. He slouched forward in his seat, head resting in his hands.

“You were there. You know exactly how I am holding up.” The man’s voice was small, wavering slightly. “What happened was… it was…”

The man trailed off, body shaking as he held back a sob. Elston took a glance around the room, thankful the other guards were either too busy in their own activities or knew not to look over at this scene.

“What happened was terrifying and crazy.” Elston finished his thought, reaching out to place a hand on the other man’s arm. “But we’re still here, aren’t we. It is behind us.”

“How is it behind us when every man is still experiencing its effects?” He spit the words out, voice raising slightly above the rest in the room. The guard looked up at Elston, eyes red rimmed yet face stern.

The question unsettled Elston. There would always be experiences that affect people daily, even if they took place years in the past. It was inescapable; no matter how much one tried to move past and forget events, they would still impact a person without regard for their feelings. It was a harsh truth that Elston did not have the heart to give to the broken, scared man who sat across from him.

“You are still here. The queen’s guard is still here. The Tearling still stands. Focus on this instead of your demons of the battles.” Elston stood up before he finished. “It will get easier, but first you must allow yourself to face these troubles so you can heal.”

Elston made his way to the exit, unsure of how well his words helped the man. He was not the most elegant and graceful talker, but he hoped his point would get across. 

_______________

The quiet voice of Father Tyler droned on in Aisa’s ears. She laid on her bed, eyes fixed to the ceiling.

During the past week, the calm voice of Father Tyler was ever present. He continued reading to her, even as her mother talked to her or she moved in her bed. It was a comfort, hearing his voice and knowing he was there. 

Though she made progress, Aisa still had the dark, indescribable feeling hanging above her. Every movement she made or word she spoke was a fight against the current, pushing her into a dark place within herself. Aisa laid in silence for most of the day, unwilling to swim against the current and talk or move.

She fought within herself, not wanting to be swept back into the dark place where she felt drowned and alone. That place scared her. She was trapped in it after she woke up from the battle. 

Though she fought internally, it was getting better. Aisa’s world did not seem covered in darkness anymore. It held some light, something to work towards, something to keep her from drowning.

Father Tyler’s voice was interrupted by another, asking for him to leave the room. Aisa moved her head to view the new person, seeing her mother standing in the doorway.

Father Tyler nodded to Andalie. He set his book on a table and quickly made his way out of the room.

The absence of the Father was felt in Aisa. The room seemed empty, even though the same number of people that usually occupied it was the same. The silence was hostile, hurting Aisa with every passing second.

Before Aisa could spiral in a panic about the silence, Andalie moved herself onto the bed. Once Andalie positioned herself, Aisa’s head was pulled to lay atop Andalie’s lap. Aisa felt light fingers move through her hair.

The silence felt bearable as Andalie combed through her hair.

“You will get better, my child. My love, you will.” Andalie’s voice was quiet, comforting. Aisa felt her body relax as she listened. The familiar voice calming her.

Andalie did not continue right away, leaving a space suitable for a reply, if Aisa chose to answer.

“The horrors inside you will not control you forever. They will leave soon enough.” Andalie spoke again, just as quietly. Her voice held concern, yet never wavered with emotion. “I am sorry I can not help you more. I am sorry you had to grow up so fast. Your life has been filled with terrors since you were a little girl, terrors I could not protect you from.”

Aisa listened intently. The emotion Andalie expressed in her words were unusual for Aisa. Her mother always held her emotions separate from her children, focusing on theirs and not hers. Aisa knew the importance of his conversation yet she could not bare to hear her mother so vulnerable.

“Please do not apologize. You are not guilty of anything.” Aisa’s voice was scratchy and soft, almost a whimper.

Andalie looked down on her child, pressing her hand against Aisa’s head, smoothing the hair down.

“But I do. You are only a child and you should not be stuck here in bed burdened by the darkness of death. I am not the one who brought this darkness onto you, but I am just as guilty for it. But this darkness shall fade. Everyone who was born again after the monsters left had this darkness in them, but it overwhelmed you, unlike the others. You will learn to not focus on this darkness, but on the light of what life has to offer. You will live and grow from this, and if I am fortunate, you will not suffer from anymore horrors in your childhood.”

Aisa moved her head to peer up at her mother. She could see tears staining her cheeks and the steady eyes staring away from her. Aisa could still feel her mother’s hand sitting on her head, having stilled as she talked. Aisa breathed deeply and reached up to that hand with her own. She wrapped her fingers around her mother’s hand, squeezing it tight. Andalie looked to Aisa, her eyes locking onto her daughter’s.

Aisa looked at her mother, the hurt and guilt-ridden eyes staring at her. It hurtr Aisa, to see her mother so broken. It was strange to see that much emotion in her face, entirely contrasting the cold, unrelenting face she usually held. Aisa forced herself to smile, to reassure her mother that she will get better and she does not hold anything against her.

The smile was small and didn’t appear much like a smile, but it made Andalie return the smile, running her hand down Aisa’s hair again.

“My Aisa, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Asia closed her eyes as Andalie continued to smooth her hair. It was comforting, being alone with her mother. She felt loved and safe, something Aisa was scared she would never feel again.

After some time passed, Father Tyler returned. He positioned himself back into the chair beside the bed and picked up his book. Andalie nodded for him to continue to read. His soft, familiar voice filled the room again. Aisa relaxed, glad at the Father’s return and the story continuing.

The three did not move until Father Tyler finished the book. Though it would have been an useful opportunity for sleep, Aisa did not sleep, partially interested in the story and partially unwilling to sleep. She heard Father Tyler close the book and set it on the ground, adding to the growing pile of completed books. She opened her eyes and looked out at Father Tyler, but she did not speak.

“I must see if the Queen is in need of assistance. I will be back Aisa.” Andalie moved slowly off the bed, placing Aisa’s head softly on a pillow. She placed a kiss on the side of her head before heading to the door. “Thank you, Father Tyler.” 

Andalie left the room, leaving Aisa and Father Tyler alone. Father Tyler looked at Aisa, who still stared at him. He gave her a smile, one he gave her almost every time he met her gaze. Aisa did not return to smile, but blinked in a response.

“Do you wish for me to continue reading?” Father Tyler looked over at the books he had stacked along the ground. 

“Can you read The Lord of the Rings? The Queen recommended it to me when she first got her library.” Aisa looked at the stack of books next to Father Tyler. She could see the worn binding of the first book in the trilogy. Kelsea gave her The Hobbit weeks ago and she finished it quickly, but never got around to reading the others.

Father Tyler was surprised at the request, for it was something Aisa never did before. Father Tyler had doubts that Aisa enjoyed his reading, but her request made him understand that she appreciated his reading, even enjoyed it. It brought joy to him that Aisa appreciated his small penance of help.

“Of course, my child. Anything you desire.” Father Tyler pulled the book out of the stack and looked at the cover. It was faded and worn, clearly loved by the previous owners. Father Tyler smiled at this and opened to book. He glanced at Aisa, who laid peacefully on the bed, something resembling a smile on her face. He took a breath and went back to the book, beginning to read.

_______________

The journey to the Almont plains was dreadfully slow, as expected when hundreds of people were making the trip by foot. The group stopped every couple of miles or so, much to the annoyance of Mace. The slow pace and constants stops made total miles covered small and the daylight waned ever quickly.

By the time the sun had set and the group stopped to make camp for the night, their destination would be reached by the next night. It was a blessing for the traveling to soon be ceased; the hours on a slow horse did not fare well for the already aching body of Mace. 

The wide flat plains the group traveled over stretched neverending in all directions, allowing the setting sun to illuminate the landscape in warm, bright colors. The refugees worked on setting their camp under the dying light, bustling busily behind Mace. Fires were made and the sounds of food preparations soon took over the night's silence.

Mace sat looking out onto the plains, mirroring what he had done the previous night. Though the dangers of people attacking them were slim, the dangers of wild animals were still present. He used that excuse to keep watch, separating himself from the large group of people enjoying themselves behind him.

As if on a cue, Coryn sat himself down beside him. Xavier, the third queen’s guard taken on the journey, walked aimlessly through the refugees, enjoying their company and merriment more so than the sober atmosphere Mace gave off.

The day’s ride was a quiet one. Loud conversations or celebration amongst the ones returning diminished once the effort of their journey took hold. Though it was a slow pace, many miles were traversed and talking simply used up much needed energy. Mace was thankful for that, for being bombarded with questions and thanks the day before was not pleasurable. The steady quiet and ceaseless drone of footfalls were a comforting sound, something Mace rather enjoyed.

Through their ride that day, Xavier occasionally asked questions or picked up a conversation with Coryn. The young guard was dreadfully curious about his surroundings or the plans for rebuilding they had. He was new to the queen’s guard, brought on days before the Red Queen’s army marched into New London. Though inexperienced, he seemed loyal and skilled with the bow. Coryn took a liking to him; his curiosity and wonder about their world was an odd sight after the horrors they experienced in the last weeks, but a pleasant sight nonetheless.

“We will arrive to the first village hopefully by late afternoon tomorrow.” Coryn stated, drawing Mace out of his thoughts of the day.

Mace nodded in agreement to this fact. It was something they discussed an hour prior but the repetition from Coryn was a nice reminder to their progress. The rebuilding would start soon, and then the reform of the Tearling would take off. Mace was proud of Kelsea’s plan and dedication to making the Tearling a better place. The empathy and care was something previous queens had lacked.

“You do not need to sit with me. I rather enjoy solitude.” Mace glanced over to Coryn before looking out towards the setting sun.

“And I rather enjoy keeping company with you.” Coryn reply was light, playful. Something heard so rarely in their conversations. It was a pleasant thing to hear for Mace.

“You would enjoy yourself more so if you chose other company.” 

“I am enjoying myself just fine, thank you.”

Mace sighed, choosing not to reply. The two fell into a silence as they both watched the sun set behind the horizon.

“You can never properly enjoy sunsets in the Keep.” Coryn broke the silence in a voice just above a whisper. Mace looked over, seeing him still watching the last remaining color fade out of the sky. “I grew up out here, in the Almont. Farming family. We were dreadfully poor, but I enjoyed myself. Always loved watching the sunsets with my family.”

Mace stayed quiet, surprised with Coryn’s openness. Once they joined the guard, most chose never to talk about their past. The new start given to the guard allowed them to forget the suffering and the life they had before. Coryn never talked of his past and Mace never asked.

“Only children seem to really enjoy sunsets, huh? When you grown up, they don’t seem that important anymore. Never really thought about them since I joined the queen’s guard.”  
Coryn turned to Mace, a smile on his face. His remembering of the past avoided telling why he was lead to the queen’s guard, but Mace wouldn’t be bothered by that. His own past was not a pretty sight, it was doubtless any of the guard had an easy past.

“One can never fully retain all that childhood wonder they once had.” Mace spoke just as quietly. They looked at each other for a moment, time stretching between them as they sat in the comfort of the other. Mace looked back to the now dark sky, breaking the quiet moment they shared. 

They sat without speaking, the sounds of the camp behind them filling the silence. Mace found himself smiling into the dark, content with his surroundings. The conversation with Coryn had left him with a pleasant feeling. 

After first being acquainted with the guard all those years ago, Mace found the company of Coryn enjoyable. Being in his presence was easy, a well contrast with the displeasure he found being around most people. His time in the Creach made him wary of people and unsettled around most. This distrust of people and being on edge to every movement made him a very skilled guard but a poor person to befriend. The distance most people had with him did not displease Mace, for he was still distrustful of people, but Mace found it pleasing that Coryn was not held at this distance. His company was cherished and satisfying, a comfort to have one person friendly with him. 

“Your family, did you see them after moving to New London?” Mace asked unprompted, breaking the silence they once had. Mace was unsure of why he asked the question, it bordering on inappropriate to ask. Though he knew Coryn moved to New London a year or two before recruitment into the queen’s guard, he never disclosed information of his family or requested any trips to go see them.

Mace suddenly felt regret, for asking directly about a guard’s past was something they did not do. There was no need to know about their past, only the present was important. Asking the question was impulsive, something Mace rarely ever was. Before Mace could pronounce an apology, Coryn answered.

“No, never got a chance to see them again. Too late now, they all past on while I was away. But it is fine. I would rather be in the Keep as a queen’s guard than watching my family die before me.”

Coryn stopped and looked over the Mace, sadness in his eyes. Mace was shocked he got a reply, knowing he would never answer a question like that. Underneath his shock, Mace also realized the importance of Coryn giving this information out. The trust he held in Mace was something Mace was not aware of until this reply.

“They were good people. Simple people. My mother, she was kind and forgiving, too much for her own good. My father was prideful and cold, but it never bothered me.” Coryn pulled his legs to his chest as he talked, wrapping an arm around them. “Taught me most of what I know about medicine. They were good people, but I don’t regret never returning to them. They did not love me much, but I understood. They couldn’t focus on me when they had to pour themselves into their work to live.”

Coryn trailed off, allowing them to sit in silence again. There were no tears in his eyes, but Mace could see sadness in them. Mace sat still, comprehending all the information Coryn gave to him. It was strange for him to hear someone speak so openingly about their past, however he knew the context of this openness. Coryn trusted him and felt enough comfort in Mace to speak freely of his past. That fact was enough to keep Mace shocked still.

“I’m sorry.” Mace finally replied, unsure of what more to say. At his words, Coryn looked at him again, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Don’t be, Lazarus. You are not to blame for their shortcomings.”

At his name, not Mace but Lazarus, Mace felt stunned. It was foreign on a voice other than Kelsea’s, but comforting. It held a strange vulnerability, being spoken in this manner. Coryn opened himself up to Mace, yet at this word, Mace felt just as open. The air held a strange intimacy between the two that Mace found comfort and happiness in.

Instead of speaking a reply, Mace gave a nod. Coryn met his eyes at this movement and gave a soft smile. Mace freely met this smile with his own until the other turned away, back to the darkness surrounding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave Mace the friend he deserves but the books did not give him.  
> Also, I love Coryn and the Queen's Guard  
> Thank you for reading! This story is the longest this I've ever wrote before and I'm really proud of it! Writing this made me fall in love with writing again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the bulk of this chapter in one sitting then realized there is a bunch of dialogue, so sorry about that. Like, there is so much talking in this chapter. But i hope you like it, nonetheless!  
> I also don't know a lot about economics and how to run a successful monarchy after the country was riddled with war, but I am trying my best and it's a fantasy world, so come on. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Sorry if there is any spelling mistakes and all that

“Why have I not received a reply from the Church? It has been a goddamn week! What is taking him so long?”

Kelsea paced around the room, her voice almost reaching a volume considered shouting. Arliss, Andalie, and most of her guard stood along the back wall, silently observing Kelsea. 

Kelsea knew her temper was getting the best of her, but she was pissed. She gave the Church a week for an answer and the week came a went while the Church still remained silent.

“A week is plenty of time for a decision. What else does the Holy Father have to do? A ‘no’ would be better than this fucking silence!”

“Lady, please calm down. We can request another meeting with the Holy Father if you wish.” Kibb spoke up, interrupting Kelsea’s rant. The company if the room all turned to look at him, shocked by his interruption.

“I shouldn't need a second meeting. You told him one week. It has been a week. I should have a reply by now.”

Kelsea sighed, frustrated at the situation. She knew she shouldn't be shouting, but she couldn't help it. The Church was aggravating, it's secrets and silence annoyed Kelsea to the last of her nerves. 

Kelsea stopped pacing and put her hands to her face. She stood there in silence, trying to calm her breathing. Once she felt it under control, Kelsea removed her hands and looked around the room. All eyes were on her.

“Let's schedule another meeting with the Holy Father. I think a formal meeting will go down better than me storming into the Arvarath and demanding an answer.” Kelsea smiled, lighting the atmosphere of the room. “Sorry for my outburst. I am just… frustrated with the Church at this moment.”

The heads nodded in agreement with Kelsea. She watched them agree then go back to staring at her. Kelsea took the opportunity to observe her guards, examining them and how they look.

Most of the guards were newer. They wore fresh faces that held a straight face in the presence of the queen no matter what. They stood staring at Kelsea, no emotion present in their faces.

The older guards were different. Dyer, Elston, Kibb, and a handful of others held emotion in their faces. They wore smiles or smirks, clearly amused by Kelsea and her outburst. Their smiles were comforting to Kelsea, a sign that her temper did not make her guard dislike her, at least not all of them.

Kelsea moved to the singular table positioned in the room. She rested her hand against it, tapping out a rhythm with her fingers. She stood, watching her fingers move. A sudden remembrance of a long thought out idea hit her, one she had spent many hours at night forming and shaping it.. Her lips formed a smile and she looked up. The attention was still solely on her, every gaze and breath followed her movements, but she did not shrink at the attention. Kelsea squared her shoulders and walked towards the company gathered in the room. 

As she approached, most stiffened, their posture returning back to perfect, their eyes forcefully stopped watching Kelsea, instead looking straight ahead. Arliss and Andalie were exceptions, their presence respectful but not as rigid as the guards. Their eyes still followed her, watching, waiting, anticipating what she would do next.

Kelsea stopped once she was past the row of people. Andalie watched her from the other end, her face ever knowing yet cold as steel. Kelsea smiled.

“I want to start a business to make copies of books.” Kelsea spoke casually, hoping to hide the fact that this plan was one she always had, buried away in her mind until the moment seemed right. “It would start with coping down books by hand. People with a pen and paper, copying word for word books that I have in my library. Then, if we are able to build them, it would transition into using printing presses. We can create a library to hold the books, free for the people.”

Kelsea stopped, her ideas running fast in her head. It was one thing to think of this idea, outrageous thoughts combined with plausible ideas could fill her mind for hours. Speaking them outloud, presenting them to an audience, trying to convince the people around her to support this idea. That was different. Her mind offered too many ideas at once for her to articulate them to their full potential. She found herself fumbling on words, speaking too fast and choking on the ideas that excite her. 

“How will we fund this, Queenie?” Arliss said, already onto the practical. Not a discredit of the idea, just a necessary thought.

“Taxes. From the nobles. At first at least. When people start buying the books, then that can partially fund it” Kelsea bounced on her feet and began to move once again. Her fingers tapped against her leg as she walked the room. “This will give jobs to people and give them something fun. Something leisurely. And widespread reading would influence widespread education. We can be an educated society. Schools and teachers and books. Think of the future.”

“I like it, Lady.” Dyer said, smiling. Kelsea snapped her head towards him. “I think it is a great idea. You saw how many utilize the library here in the Keep. Think of all the people that would go to a public one. If the resources are there, I believe people will read.”

Kelsea’s smile grew. Her chest felt full, happy, ready to burst. It was thrilling to get validation of this project. The project she cared the most for. 

“You think it is wise to start something like this when the city isn’t even rebuilt? Your priorities are skewed, Lady.”

Kelsea’s smile fell, a harsh glare over taking her face. She whipped her head around to the speaker, her anger rising with every moment. Her anger was met with cold stare offered by Penn, still standing at attention but looking directly at Kelsea. 

Kelsea stopped, her words unable to fall. She choked on them, turning away. 

“Penn, leave.” Elston’s words were harsh. She heard bodies move behind her and the sounds of a struggle.

“Let her answer my question. I have every right to ask it as anyone else.” Penn voice was loud, filling Kelsea’s head.

“Leave the room Penn. This is unnecessary. Leave now or I will have to force--”

“He can stay.” Kelsea interrupted Elston. She turned back to everyone, her face hard and cold. “He does have the right to question my ideas, I have made this clear. While he was rude in his questioning, I will let this pass. He deserves an answer.”

The room was silent, the tension thick and uncomfortable. Kelsea stared at Penn, glare unwavering. He stared back, disdain and pride shone bright in his eyes. Kelsea had a sour taste in her mouth, an uncomfortable feeling in her gut.

It was not hidden that she was avoiding Penn. The guards and servants in the Keep caught on quickly. By the guard's best efforts, his presence was hidden from her. His positions assigned to put him away from Kelsea and in meetings, he was hidden behind other guards. Kelsea told herself it was a temporary solution until bigger problems were fixed. She would face him eventually, but her efforts were needed elsewhere. While it worked in the short term, Kelsea was unprepared to be confronted by Penn. A plethora of disconcerting emotions tumbled forward when Kelsea saw him, overwhelming her and she had no way of dealing with them. 

In her current situation, Kelsea regretted avoiding Penn for the past weeks, wishing instead she had confronted him sooner and tried to mend their relationship.

“And what is your answer, Lady?” Penn’s voice dripped with contempt. His eyebrow rose, questioning Kelsea’s growing silence.

“This project can give the people happiness, hope for a brighter future. This business, while it starts only as copying books, will grow and help the community.” As Kelsea spoke, her confidence grew again. The shrinking feeling she felt when Penn first spoke was dissipating, replaced by growth and courage. “Yes, the community needs to rebuild physically. New houses, new buildings, new jobs. But we cannot forget the importance of rebuilding mentally. This project will help that. Book can ease minds, bring people to new places, help them in their current situations. Ignoring the people’s mental health and not helping them rebuild that is just as bad as not constructing new buildings and funding new jobs.”

Kelsea watched Penn as she spoke, hoping he would crumbled, defeated. But he did not. He stood tall still, looking down on Kelsea with distaste, a sneer almost visible on his lips. 

As she finished explaining herself, her temper spiked up, directly caused by Penn unchanging behavior.

“You look as if you are looking down on a defeated opponent. Why? I am not defeated and if I was a meaner queen, you would not be able to continue to look at me like this. With hatred and so full of an ego that should not be there. We are not enemies, Penn. And I do not think the place to argue our differences is here, surrounded by your fellow guard.”

Kelsea clenched her fists, anger still coursing through her. Penn averted his eyes, looking off to the far wall, no longer set upon her.

“My apologies, Lady. I do not mean to offend.” Penn’s voice was smaller now, something short of shame rising to be heard. He backed away, silently falling into place behind some guards, almost completely blocked from view.

“You are forgiven.” Kelsea stood tall, surveying her guards again. They were in different forms of attention, some still straight and rigid, others looked at Penn with open shock or disgust. Others, still, looked at her, disbelief and awe filling their faces. Kelsea felt proud.

“Queenie, if we are all finished here, I have the full tax reports from the nobles. Do you wish to look over that now?” Arliss moved forward, a book hung in his able hand.

“Right. Yes. Let us get on that. My guard is dismissed. Elston, please arrange another meeting with the Holy Father fo tonight.” 

Elston dipped his head in a nod and the guard broke from their trance and left, faster than usual. Two guards stayed behind, taking their positions at the exits. Arliss moved forward, taking up a chair at the table, getting right to business. Kelsea surveyed the now deserted room, meeting eyes with Andalie. She stood by the door, waiting for Kelsea’s leave. She nodded and Kelsea nodded back, watching Andalie slip quietly out of the door, leaving her with Arliss and the taxes.

_______________

Elston followed the guards out of the room, anger brimming in his mind. He pushed through the men until Penn was visible. 

“Penn! Come with me. Please.” Elston hissed his words out. Penn turn to him, unfazed by the anger.

The guards stood still, watching Penn follow Elston to his room. The group stayed still for a moment, comprehending and registering the situation at hand. Kibb and Dyer moved first, rushing towards the guard’s quarters. The pack moved behind them, the younger guards pushing their way towards to front, hungry for the drama.

Instead of stopping outside Elston’s room along with the other guards, Kibb and Dyer entered Kibb’s room and hurried to the adjoining door.

Elston scowled down at Penn, arms crossed. His anger made the room small and dark. Kibb and Dyer rushed to Elston’s side. They each held anger within them, but not as wild as Elston’s. 

Elston did not move when Kibb and Dyer each took a side next to him. The three stared at Penn, who did not dare meet their eyes.

“Why the fuck did you do that? How did you think that was a good idea? You had no idea how Kelsea would react. You could of been kicked out of the guard. Was that you goal?” Elston said, spitting out each word.

“And you waited until Mace had left. Clever. You didn’t want his wrath for this.” Kibb said. Elston shifted his gaze to him for a moment, softening, and then returning to Penn.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Elston stopped himself, holding back more words, his anger too uncheck for him to be confident in what he would say.

“It was a foolish thing for me to do. I should not have confronted Kelsea in this setting with so much open contempt towards her.” Penn spoke to the ground.

“The queen’s guard should never show any contempt towards the queen. We are sworn to protect her and you cannot hate her and do your job efficiently.” Kibb said, cutting off Elston before her could yell at Penn. “Given the behavior you just exhibited, you are unfit to do your duties. You should be suspended for this.”

Elston looked down to Kibb, shocked at the authority and seriousness he was presenting. Usually lighthearted and kinder than him, and usually the one to see reason and lessen Elston’s harsher judgements, this display of intense authority and harshness was a pleasant surprise. Kibb’s eyes flickered up to Elston and gave a quick, fleeting smile, before his frown returned.

“Kibb is correct. You are fortunate Mace is not here, for you better believe his punishment would not be so kind as mine. You are suspended until Kelsea is certain you harbor no hatred or ill will towards her. If you gain Kelsea’s blessing and are reinstated before Mace returns, then, unless Kelsea explicitly wishes it, we will not inform Mace of this situation.” Elston said. He felt his body relax, the tension washing out of it. His anger slowly faded as he spoke, dripping away till he felt sorrow for Penn. “You’re our friend, Penn. Please remedy this quickly because I do not know how Mace will react if we inform him. I do not want to see you expelled from the guard.”

Penn’s shoulders slumped and he nodded, face still to the ground. The four stood in uneasy silence until Dyer moved.

“I’ll clear the guards away from the door and get a letter ready for the Holy Father.” Dyer nodded to Elston and slipped out of the door. Footsteps and murmerings were heard, muffled through the wall, signaling that the group had moved from the doorway.

Penn took this as his cue to leave and made towards the exit. Hand on the knob, he looked up to Elston and Kibb. His eyes held pain and a tiredness in them. Elston felt a twang of pity for him.

“I truly am sorry. My actions were wrong.”

Penn ducked out of the door, leaving Elston and Kibb alone.

“What a shitty morning.” Kibb laughed, the tension dissolving from the room. Elston smiled. “And we have to see the Holy Father later tonight. What a great day, huh babe?”

Kibb punched his arm playfully, the earlier anger gone from his face, replaced by joy and faked annoyance. Elston pushed his shoulder away, falling into laughter. He reached out and wrapped his arm around Kibb, pulling him back towards him. He hugged the other, feeling familiar arms wrap around his back as well.

“Let’s get on with the day.” Kibb pushed back, looking up at him, humor glinted in his eyes. Elston leaned down and placed a short kiss on Kibb’s lips: soft, warm, comforting. It was received with a smile.

“Let’s go.” Elston agreed, letting go of Kibb.

The two made their way to the exit, prepared to face the day together. They gave each other one last smile: private and truly theirs.

_______________

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the villagers as they worked. The cart of supplies sat in the middle of the small town, it’s load reduced by a small amount. The farmers of the surrounding lands and people of the village all worked on rebuilding the broken buildings, fences, and land. Two queen’s guards accompanied the villagers in their effort of rebuilding, their above average strength aiding in the effort greatly.

The village currently being rebuilt was the first of many on their trek across the Almont plains. Reaching the village last evening, the people who called this home settled into their houses again. The other refugees camped outside again, awaiting their return home. When morning came, the refugees of the other villages set out on their journey again, joined by Javier. He was to lead them to the next village, guarding them on their walk. Mace and Coryn stayed back to help for a day before riding out to join the group again.

The company made good work. Rising with the sun and setting to work shortly after, the progress made had been enormous. The village would be in good shape by night. This comforted Mace, knowing at his departure, the village would be well off. 

The smell of food wafted through the air. The persons not strong enough or abled bodied cooked lunch for the workers and brought around water for the thirsty. The whole community was aiding in this effort. Mace was please with the effort; knowing how willingly the people of this village came together to help and repair their homes and homes of others alike brought Mace hope. Though the people had suffered great horrors and losses and the world was no kind place, the people still came together to help each other.

“We are being called in for lunch.” Coryn appeared at Mace’s side, handing a glass of water over. Mace accepted the water, downing it in one drink. “Come on.”

Mace followed Coryn towards the line of villagers awaiting food. They entered the line, people filling in behind them quickly.

“It’s coming along nicely, isn’t it?” Coryn conversed lightly, in a way Mace knew he would not be bothered if he received no reply.

“It is. Everyone is doing fine work.” Mace replied, appeasing Coryn’s small talk.

Coryn nodded, a smile hung calmly on his face. Mace watched him face the sun, soaking in the warmth and hospitality it held. Coryn wore working clothes, the regular armor replaced by slacks and a loose shirt. He looked years younger, transported back to a lost time of him working on his parents farm. Mace kept that thought to himself, sensing the peaceful mood would be broken by mentions of his family.

They waited the remainder of the line in silence, each choosing to focus on other things. Coryn the sun and Mace the people. He listened to the conversations around him; the light and happy ones along with the bleak. 

Reaching the front, they were handed bowls of stew and a hunk of bread. They thanked the old man who distributed the food and left the line, food in hand. Coryn lead them to an area of grass shaded by a tall tree, away from most others. They ate in silence, rather than delaying their lunches by partaking in unnecessary small talk.

“Excuse me, sirs. Can I speak with you for a moment?” A young lady approached them soon after they had finished their meal. She stood before them, waiting for an answer before sitting..

“Of course, Miss…?” Coryn replied first, a friendly smile directed towards the woman.

“Maude. Maude Stuart.” She sat in front of them, looking between the two guards. She wore a calm smile, looking entirely at ease, despite the dirt on her face and the strands of hair falling out of her bun.

“What can we help with, Miss Stuart?” Coryn said. Mace stayed quiet, examining Maude. She seemed to be teeming with nervousness, sparking interest in Mace.

“Okay, I will get straight to the point.” Maude said, sitting up a little straighter. “I am interested in becoming a Queen’s Guard. As you two are apart of them, I assume you will be able to answer this question. How do I become one?”

Mace raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Though it is not forbidden for women to become queen’s guards, the history of women in the guard has been small. The interested parties had been overwhelmingly men in recent history, turning many women away from the opportunity. The question surprised Mace, yet made him genuinely interested in Maude’s plead.

“There is recruitment for guard positions, but those opportunities are few and far between.” Mace said. Maude and Coryn both turned to look at him, Coryn in surprise and Maude in sadness. 

She looked to the ground, a soft “oh” left her lips as she got up to leave.

“The other way is for the current captain of queen’s guard to take a person in to the guard based on their judgement of the person. It has been the case with multiple of the guards currently serving.” Mace looked at Maude, the spread of hope retaking her face. She settled onto the ground again. 

Maude sat with her mouth contorting into different shapes, trying to find the right words to say next. Coryn and Mace waited for her to arrive at the words.

“As I have made clear, I am interested in becoming a queen’s guard. I was trained in sword fighting by some men in the village. I work well in teams and I am educated. Do I have a chance at becoming a queen’s guard?”

“Can you let us converse for a moment, Maude?” Coryn said with a smile. Maude nodded and lept up, leaving the two to their discussion.

Mace turned to Coryn, a rare smile on his face.

“I feel like she would be an excellent addition to our queen’s guard.” Mace stated plainly. Coryn nodded in agreement.

“I will take her in and hold all responsibility if she turns out to be a bad addition.” Coryn said before Mace could say any more. Mace looked at him in confusion; the guard captain was the one to take on new people, not a regular queen’s guard. 

“I am captain, so it is my responsibility. Not yours.”

“Officially, yes it can be. But I will not allow you to take responsibility for another new recruitment. In my professional opinion, after Aisa, you are not ready for it.” Coryn’s face turned serious, the previous light hearted joy was no longer there. He looked at Mace, not in disrespect but with a caring intent. “She will be my responsibility. Not yours.”

Mace sat, shocked. Remembering what he allowed Aisa to go through brought pain to his chest. His guilt rushed back suddenly, overwhelming him for a moment before disappearing. He sat, emotional exhausted, deeply aware of how right Coryn was.

“Okay.” 

Coryn nodded, knowingly. Mace turned away, uncomfortable with his vulnerability. Mace took a deep breath, steeling himself for Maude’s arrival.

“After discussing it, we have agreed that you’d be an exceptional addition to the queen’s guard.” Coryn said as Maude returned, retaking her spot in front of them. Coryn gave Maude a smile. Her face lit up with the news, a wave of joy radiated from her.

“After we finished our travel to the other villages, we will come back here to take you back to the Keep.” Mace said, offering his own smile to her. She nodded furiously. “Are you sure you wish to be a queen’s guard? You will swear your life to Queen Kelsea. You will leave your home and your family here and spend all hours protecting the queen. Are you willing to do that?”

“Oh, yes! A thousand times over! I swear to protect Queen Kelsea until my dying day!” Maude bounced in her seat, excited. “I will be ready to leave by the time you two return. I give you all my thanks, Coryn and Mace.” 

Maude rose to her knees and gave an awkward half bow. Coryn smiled and clapped her shoulder. Mace gave her a nod, a smile not quite visible to untrained eyes, but still there. Maude rose to her feet and bowed again before returning to the villagers. Coryn and Mace watched her leave, smiles still on their faces.

“Hopefully she owns a horse, or you’ll have to share one with her.” Coryn said. Mace let out a laugh, surprising himself and Coryn with the bark of laughter. Coryn smiled, eyes crinkling almost shut with happiness. “Now that is something you don’t hear everyday.” 

“I don’t have a lot of humor in my life.” Mace replied, not quite truthfully. In truth, his laugh displeases him. It sounds foreign and loud to him, never hearing it as a child. He keeps his laughter silent, choosing a cold exterior to an affable one.

“Sure you don't.”

Coryn shook his head at Mace, smile still playing in his face. He reached and placed a hand onto Mace’s shoulder. Coryn pushed himself to his feet, his weight pressed onto Mace’s shoulder as he stood. He removed his hand and dusted specks of dirt away from his pants.

“It looks like people are returning back to work. I'll see you tonight.” Coryn directed one last smile towards Mace, who in turn gave his own smile back.

Mace watched Coryn walk back towards the villagers, feeling comforted and at peace. Conversations like these, the two of them discussing nothing and yet everything still, had been growing more frequent as they continued on with the trip. They left Mace feeling warm, happy even, like the sun shone down on him and he was years younger. The feeling was strange but welcoming, like a home cooked meal offered to you from another home: uncommon but, nevertheless, warms the soul.

_______________

Kelsea roamed the audience room, awaiting the Holy Father’s arrival. Jaded beams of light fell in from the partially covered windows. Chunks of the room were eliminated with a blinding light, reflecting off the stone, yet shadows grew in the corners: dark and cold. Guards lined the walls, each face cold and unmoving, waiting for danger to bare its ugly face.

“Lady, he should be arriving in a few moments, you should take your throne.” Elston said. He stood behind the throne, one hand resting on the tall back.

Kelsea nodded, obliging his suggestion. She walked to her throne and sat. The worn wood, covered with a thin layer of cushion, welcomed Kelsea. She sank into her royal posture: back straight, eyes ahead, face stone.

Once she was settled, her harold, Jordan, slipped through the door. He hurried his way to the throne, stopping with plenty of space to spare. Jordan straighten his back and directed his eyes to Kelsea.

“The Holy Father is here, Lady.” 

Kelsea nodded, prompting Jordan to rush across the room, open the door, and stand against the wall, nerves clear in his face.

Through the open door, five people walked in a pack, smoothly crossing the floor of the audience room. They stopped all together, a few feet from the throne. 

“Welcome, Holy Father. I see you brought your guards with you.” Kelsea said, watching the group in front of her.

“I never leave the Arvath without them. You know what they say, better safe than sorry.” The Holy Father emerged from the center of the group. His guards moved around him in a fluid, practiced motion until they took their positions around the Holy Father.

He stood before Kelsea, white robes trailing to the ground like a stream. His lips had a small upturn, stabbing daggers of contempt at Kelsea. Her temper rose, watching this vile, disgusting urchin who preached bigotry and hate under the shield of God stand before her. Kelsea bit her tongue, knowing if her unbridled anger shows, every sliver of hope of mending the connection between the Church and the Crown would snap and disappear forever.

“You know why you are here. What’s your answer to the demands I requested the church meet?”

“Oh, yes. Those. They demand the church to change quite a lot.”

“The church and the crown need to work together in this time of need. I will not align myself to something that does not use their influence for good. This is a new era for the Tearling; it is time for the church to change quite a lot.”

Kelsea stared down the Holy Father, lip twitching into a scowl. His face remained unchanged by Kelsea’s words, whether his did not listen or did not care was questionable.

“With all due respect, your Highness, your demands are foolish ones. You ask me to change the very foundations that the church was founded on! I can not and will not do such things!”

“My demands are set in the basis of love, openness, charity, and community, things that that Bible of yours preach.” Kelsea stood and walk towards the Holy Father. Her previous anger was flushed out by a desire to prove him wrong. His posture faltered for a moment, and that moment sparked confidence in Kelsea, reuivinating her hope to win this fight. 

“The secrecy that riddles the inner workings of the church is destined to result in lying and deceit. Opening the doors to everyone seeking faith will allow the preachings of your God to reach more people and help more people find religion in their lives. That’s what a church should strive for, isn’t it? And helping the poor is something Jesus did multiple times in the Bible. Shouldn’t your church follow in his workings? Lastly, the persecution of homosexuals that you preach does no good. There is no justification for hurting people and spreading a hateful doctrine, so you must stop that. You see, my demands are rational and do not make the church sway from the preachings of the Bible, you are already doing that.”

Kelsea placed herself in front of the Holy Father. She felt her guards move closer, anticipating danger, and she saw the Holy Father’s guards reach for their swords. She smiled, dangerously full of hatred and pride. She felt no fear of the intimate danger she was in; a step closer and swords would be drawn. She stood on the line, deciding her fate with her next action.

Kelsea let out a breath and stepped back.

“Holy Father, do you accept my demands? Or do you wish me to dismantle the church, brick by brick, until you have nothing? I may need you to continue advancing the Tearling forward, but my life does not depend on you. If we fight, I will come out of top.”

The Holy Father’s smug face dropped, a look of defeat present for a second, then replaced by a neutral stare.. Kelsea bite back a laugh, knowing it would do no good now.

“I believe I will accept the demands.” He bowed his head and raised it slowly, meeting Kelsea’s eyes as he rose. His eyes screamed with anger, unrestrained rage fuming inside him. “I will get started on those changed right away.” 

“Excellent. You are dismissed. I am looking forward to see those changes in action, Holy Father.” Kelsea turned away, moving back to her throne. 

At his dismissal, the Holy Father stormed out, his guards following close behind. The grand door slammed and Kelsea fell into her chair, exhausted.

“Are you alright, Lady?” Elston asked from his place next to the throne. Kelsea looked up at him and nodded.

“Dealing with him just takes everything out of you.” Kelsea sighed, resting her head against the throne’s back. “I am very thankful it is over.”

“So am I, Lady.” Elston smiled, genuine and friendly. Kelsea smiled back at him, tension she didn’t realize she was holding dissipating from her body.

She stood, ready to leave the dismal audience room. She still wore her smile as she observed her guards around the room. They stood straight and rigid, ready for any danger despite the chances of it happening. Though she was not afraid of danger anymore, having people willing to protect her made her smile grow deeper.

“Let us return to the Queen’s wing for dinner.” Kelsea turned to the exit and made her way out of the room, hearing her guards trail behind her.

_______________

The room was illuminated by a sole candle when Aisa awoke, cast in a soft yellow haze. She had drifted off the sleep hours ago, listening to Father Tyler reading. The shadows flickered around her, dancing along the walls like ghosts dancing. Aisa watched them for a moment, the sleep slowly washing out of her. 

Aisa slid her feet off her bed, placing them onto the stone floors. She sat upright, the cold ground warming under her feet as she gathered herself to stand. She looked to Father Tyler, fast asleep beside her bed. His light snores filled the otherwise silent room.

Aisa pushed herself up, legs shaking at the sudden weight. She took in some deep breaths, her heart pounding. The days laying in bed with little use of her legs made the simple act of standing a struggle for her. She fought her legs, wishing they would stop shaking.

It made her feel weak, pathetic. Aisa wanted to tear her heart out; she couldn’t even stand without struggling. Tears stung her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could fall. She moved her legs forward, one after the other. Each step wavered, every footfall made her heart jump, afraid to fall. 

Aisa stopped in front of a mirror, sinking the ground. She pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them close. She laid her forehead on her knees, her body shaking from exhaustion. Aisa let herself sit there, quivering like a leaf in the wind. Embarrassment slowly overtook her thoughts, suddenly glad Father Tyler was asleep. Her throat clenched at the thought, the very thought, that a few steps left her this tired and vulnerable. She choked on a silent sob, stopping herself before it became anything more than a single sob.

Aisa lifted her head, looking at herself in the mirror. Her skin was pale, eyes set in deep shadows. The word skeleton flashed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. The resemblance was there, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. She wouldn’t let herself acknowledge that she had cheated death to only resemble it. 

She continued to look at herself. Memories of her screams echoed in her mind as she looked at her arms, her hair, memories of the child-like monsters ripping her apart filled her mind. She sat, silently reliving the traumatizing, horrific moment of pure agony. She knew she should not remember such things, but she couldn’t stop. Somewhere deep in her gut began to hurt, an indescribable pain that threaten to consume her. She felt sick, her body a mixture of agony and nothingness.

“Aisa? Where did you- oh. Aisa?” Father Tyler voice broke the silence of the room, worry clear in his voice. Aisa was pulled out of her thoughts. She blinked and turned her head towards the Father. She felt tears on her cheeks.

Father Tyler saw her face, eyes screaming out in fear and pain. He moved out of his chair, approaching Aisa slowly. She sat painfully still, letting him sit next to her. He was close, but did not touch her, knowing touch was not necessarily a remedy for Aisa’s pain. He looked at her through the mirror, waiting.

“I was just thinking. Remembering, about the…” Aisa trailed off, pulling her gaze to the floor.

Father Tyler remained silent, letting her collect her thoughts. It was better to be patient than rush, better to wait for Aisa to continue speaking rather than prompting her to talk again. 

“I am still so vulnerable to that awful pain and darkness. It threatens to consume my very being every moment I dwell on my thoughts. I just want it to disappear and let me be myself again.” Aisa clenched her hands, nails digging into her palms. She lifted her head, looking at Father Tyler. He had turned to look at her, sadly watching her speak.

“My child, I believe you will get better.” Father Tyler spoke quietly. He pursed his lips and sighed before continuing. “I believe you will get better if you leave this room. Resume some normal activity within the Keep.”

Aisa opened her mouth to protest, but could not find any words. She had isolated herself to this room, a defense in response to the unbearable darkness she felt. She was scared to leave, afraid that the world had changed, afraid that she would not recognize anything anymore. But she knew she had to leave. 

Aisa had gotten better since she returned from the dead. She surprised herself with how much improvement she made, but she needed to leave her room. Needed to face the world once again. Aisa needed to learn to live in the world again, not in her bedroom. She needed interaction with people, even with other kids. Aisa knew this, so she could not protest Father Tyler’s suggestion.

“Okay.” Aisa all but whispered.

Father Tyler smiled, hopeful and warm. Aisa turned her head forward, unable to face the smile. She closed her eyes and leaned against Father Tyler’s arm, her head falling onto his shoulder. 

They sat still, the calm and warm spirit of Father Tyler filling Aisa. Her mind was blank, a blissful silence allowing her to simply enjoy the moment. She was scared, terrified at what was to come, but the strong and comforting company of the Father lessened her fears. His very presence by her side silently told her that things would be okay, that there was light at the end of this long and dark tunnel.

Father Tyler was the closest thing she had to God, Aisa thought. 

A smile spread across Aisa’s face, genuine and hopeful. Father Tyler looked down to Aisa, seeing a smile. He was at a loss for words, surprised to find her smiling after everything.

“You are smiling, my child. Why?” 

Aisa lifted her head up and moved away, sitting straight again. She still held onto her smile as she looked at Father Tyler. He had an amused yet confused smile on. Aisa heart filled with happiness, something that warmed her body.

“I just want to thank you, for everything you have done. You are miraculous.” 

Aisa moved forward, spreading her arms out for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling tight. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her back with equal strength. 

Aisa felt entirely at peace, no sadness or fear or even a sliver of that horrible gut wrenching feeling from before. The future held unknown dangers and loss, but being embraced with love and care, she didn’t think about them. 

She had faith that there would be joys to accompany the loss. She had faith in herself; faith that she would continually get better; faith that she will be as fierce, and strong, and hopeful as before. She had faith in her mother and Mace and Coryn, to help her grow and to always be there. Aisa had faith in Father Tyler, faith that he had instilled in her with his very existence. She had faith in him to help her become herself again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken so long, I got consumed by school, theater, and college apps. I knew I wanted to finish this before the new year, so here I am!  
> This chapter is long, like so much longer than I planned on.
> 
> Every kudo i've received on this story just fills my heart with joy and every time i get a notification of one, I just want to write so much more. Thank you so much and I am so happy people like this story, because honestly I would still write it even if no one read it because I just love these books and characters so much  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Warning: There is some very minor description of abuse relating to Aisa and her dad. It is very briefly mentioned, but just a warning.

Kelsea stared down at her reflection in the water. It stared back to her, empty eyes hitting empty eyes. She rested her hand on the tub’s edge, causing the reflection the waver. She watched the water shake, ripples disrupting her figure. 

It had be some time since she took her bath, an hour or so has past. She was dressed in a nightgown, the hem of it brushing her feet as she moved away from the tub. She felt tired, but did not turn to her bed. She lowered herself onto the ground of the bathroom, her back resting against the tub. The cold porcelain stung her skin, Kelsea let out a sigh.

She felt frayed, her mind burnt out and her body aching. Every meeting took more out of Kelsea. Every mention of taxes and costs and food supply made her anxious, nervous at the prospect of failing her kingdom. Kelsea felt her eyes sting, tears wanting to fall. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed calm, even breaths.

She was scared. The feeling overwhelmed her most of the time, but she kept it buried. The queen should not be scared. The queen should be confident and righteous. But sitting there, alone and on the verge of tears, she felt powerless. The obstacles she faced towarded in front of her and threatened to crush her.

A soft knock came from her door, throwing Kelsea from her thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked to the door. She body felt heavy, weighing her down on the floor. 

“Enter.” Kelsea called. Her voice sounded hollow, weak.

The door opened slowly and Penn stepped through. Kelsea felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her, scolding herself for not moving. Penn moved into the room fully, closing the door. His eyes landed on Kelsea, his expression showed no judgement, but that did not relieve Kelsea’s embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Lady. I know it is getting late, but I must talk with you. Will you allow it?” Penn stepped towards Kelsea, hesitantly.

Kelsea nodded, moving her eyes to the ground. She prepared to close herself off, trying to avoid another argument with Penn. She heard Penn move closer until he stood in the doorway, looking into the small bathroom. Whether he was concerned about Kelsea’s position or not, he did not mention it.

“I must apologize for my outburst the other day. I should not have argued with you, it was unprofessional and disrespectful. It will never happen again.” 

Kelsea gripped her nightgown, her fists tight. She hissed her breaths out, trying to yield her outburst. Penn began to speak again, but his words fell onto deaf ears; her temper boiling out of her.

“Shut up.” Kelsea snapped. The room grew quiet, Penn shuffled awkwardly against the door frame. She sighed and lifted her head, setting her eyes to Penn. She appreciated that he did not shy away from her cold gaze. “You know damn well that the argument we had recently was not a random occurrence. It happened because we never talked about what happened between us.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

They stared at each other, neither wanting to seem vulnerable. Kelsea felt a knot in her stomach, a mixture of anxiety and fear stirring up whenever she thought of what happened between them.

“Yes.”

Kelsea felt a portion of her anxiety lift away, the first step towards vulnerability and openness taken. Penn nodded and slid to the ground, now even with Kelsea. He gave her a sad smile, his eyes full of past pain. 

“Okay. Where do you want to start?” Penn said, choking his words out. His face grew solemn and turned his eyes to the ground.

“I need to apologize to you. It was foolish for me to start a relationship with you. Though it was a short time ago, I was young and inexperience. The whole world had just opened up to me and I thought I needed someone, and everyone, to love me.” Kelsea paused. Much to her dismay, Penn stilled avoided her eyes. She wished he would look at her, to give her any hint about how her words were affecting him. 

“I was focused on the incoming invasion. I had these visions of a whole other world and people's lives. I was overwhelmed and I should not have lead you on to believe I could care and love you as much as you loved me. I was naive, I had too much on my plate. I betrayed you and I hurt you.”

“Kelsea,” Penn's voice was quiet, only a whisper breaking through Kelsea’s words. Kelsea stilled as Penn raised his head, tears present in his eyes. “It was not all your fault.”

Kelsea looked at Penn, the world shifting. The whole time, she felt she was the cause of the rupture that took place. That she was the sole person responsible for what happened. Yet here Penn sat, proving her wrong. Kelsea’s throat tightened, her heart hurt and tears stung her eyes. 

“I became too engulfed by our relationship that I was unable to do my job diligently. I forgot my duties as a queen’s guard. And when you did not return the same affection, it hurt. And when you surrender yourself to the Red Queen, that tore my world apart. Everyone felt the loss of you and went on with their duties, but I was unable to. I wanted you to be in love with me, so much so that my judgment was clouded by that desire. I did not think of what was going on in your life. I am sorry, lady. Kelsea. I’m sorry.”

Penn’s voice broke off and he looked away, his hand covering his mouth. Kelsea watched his body shake as he cried, but she did not move. Something prevented her from moving, from reaching out to him in comfort.

“I don’t think I can love you Penn. Not like that.” Kelsea felt hollow. She felt alone, like a ship on the ocean that sailed away towards nothingness. Her words were acid on her tongue.

Kelsea felt a tear fall from her eye, unaware she was in tears. Her strength crumbled as Penn looked at her, his face contorted in anguish. Kelsea's body shook, a sob released from the tight cage she kept around her heart. It hurt, the indescribably agony that hurting a loved one causes. It tore her defenses down, making her shake and sob as if she was dying. It consumed her, blocking out her other senses until the world only consisted of her agony.

She felt an arm wrap around her back, then a body pressing against her. She felt a hand rub circles on her back and a light kiss placed gently on her head. Kelsea's senses came back to her, realizing Penn had pulled her into a hug, the warm embrace grounding her. 

“It's okay Kelsea. I understand.” Penn spoke softly once Kelsea calmed a bit. The words struck Kelsea, not harsh like a punch, but soft and gentle as their embrace. The words felt like hope, a light in the darkness. It was growth and an open doorway to something new. 

“You should get going.” Kelsea moved back, suddenly remembering the kingdom around her. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Kelsea pushed herself off the floor, smoothing her nightgown once she stood. Penn followed suit, silently. They walked out of the bathroom into the main bed chamber. Kelsea felt awkward, as if she was doing something wrong but did not know what. In front of her door, she paused.

“I really appreciate having you around Penn. Just, thank you for understanding.” 

Kelsea ducked her head, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. Her nerves did not calm with her words, but underneath them, she felt okay. The world will continue to spin, the sun will come up, and Penn will be by her side. It felt good, it was closure. 

“No, thank you, lady. Thank you for talking with me.” Penn reached to open the door. “I'll see you in the morning, Kelsea.”

He left quickly, before Kelsea could move. She watched the door close quietly, leaving her alone once again.

_______________

Mace watched the Keep grow larger as he rode, transforming from a small smudge on the horizon to the grand building in front of him. His eyes wandered over the brickwork, inspecting and admiring the exterior of the building he had called home for many years.

He heard Kelsea before he saw her, a cry of welcoming rising throughout the air as Mace approached the front entrance. She stood in the doorway with a smile, watching them dismount their horses. She seemed calmed by their presence, reassured that her plan at rebuilding has gotten off successfully. Her eyes reflected her enthusiasm, joyous and full of hope.

“Lazarus, how did things go?” Kelsea walked to Mace, her voice no longer loud. “Are you well?”

Mace looked down to her, a smile seen in his eyes. She met his eyes and tugged him into a hug, pulling them tightly together. Mace stood still for a moment, apprehensive to hugging, but ultimately he wrapped an arm around Kelsea. He felt awkward, inexperienced at physical intimacy and unsure how this action would be perceived by the public. It is uncommon for a queen to show affection for her guards in this public display, but Mace thought back on his conversation with Kelsea, how desperate she needed friends, a family.

He had left her for weeks, abandoned her like so many of her family had done before. Except he had come back. He returned to her after leaving, keeping his word. Kelsea had been abandoned by every family member she knew, and that fear ran so deep inside her she had fears Mace would never return. So Mace hugged her back, wishing he could soothe every fear she held that she would be left behind and abandoned. He hugged her knowing it meant more than just a welcoming hug, it was a promise he was not leaving her.

“I am well, my lady. The villages have each been making great work at rebuilding and returning to normal life.” Mace let Kelsea go and she stepped back, looking up once again to Mace. “How have you fared while I was away?”

“I've been good, Lazarus. Things are starting to get on track with the reform.” Kelsea's smile returned and Mace met it with his own, please to hear Kelsea was well. Though he would be reluctant to admit, Mace had missed Kelsea and hoped she was doing good. Her happiness brought Mace happiness.

“Excuse me, my lady. We have brought an addition to the queen's guard from the Almont. If it is not a bad time, would you like to be introduced now?” Coryn walked respectfully next to Kelsea, bowing slightly when he stopped. Maude stood behind him, her face filled with awe and anxiety.

“Coryn, it is good to see you!” Kelsea's smile grew as she talked, pleased to see the others have returned well. “I believe it is a fantastic time to be introduced to a new guard. Bring him here.”

“Her, actually, my lady.” Coryn smiled and and gestured for Maude to approach. She complied to his gesture and bowed to Kelsea, a polite smile resting in her face.

“It is an honor, my lady, to be apart of the queen's guard.” Maude spoke confidently, yet she bounced nervously in her heels. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, however I don't think I caught your name.” Kelsea smiled calming Maude, clearly happy to have met her.

“I apologize. My name is Maude Stuart, my lady.” 

“Well, Maude, I am glad you can join us here. You will be a great addition to the guard, thank you for joining.”

Kelsea reached out and placed a hand on Maude’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before dropping her hand. Maude opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, unable to form her thoughts of gratitude. She bowed again and stepped away, clearly overwhelmed. Mace watched her, waiting for her to collect her thoughts. He glanced to Kelsea, checking if her face revealed any distaste for Maude's behavior. He could find none, grateful for Kelsea's care and empathy. 

“I will go get her situated within the Keep. Take care, my lady.” Coryn smiled again, radiating calmness and peace. Kelsea nodded in agreement and returned his smile, her eyes momentarily catching on Maude before returning to Coryn. He bid them farewell and guided Maude into the Keep.

Mace remained beside Kelsea as the two returned to the Keep. He was conflicted, wishing he did not allow Coryn take the responsibility for Maude, wanting to shield him from any emotional connection to a new recruit lest they are hurt and he takes blame. Mace wished he could take all responsibility for new guards, in case they fail or get injured. He would be able to take blame for them, not allowing others to hurt. Yet Mace was thankful for Coryn’s generosity, taking Maude under his wing to not let Mace take blame for her. Coryn saw the pain Mace held onto after Aisa, the guilt and despair he felt when he saw her broken and afraid. He is being protected, the same way he has protected everyone else for years.

“Hey, Lazarus, can we talk?” Kelsea asked quietly. He agreed with a nod and allowed Kelsea to lead the way to her room..

When they reached her room, she immediately went to her bed, placing herself on the edge, legs pulled tightly to her chest. Mace took a seat in a chair near the bed, watching Kelsea settle herself.

She looked younger, sitting on her bed like that, a curled in on herself. She looked weak and tired, childlike. Mace had forgotten how young Kelsea truly was; barely an adult and yet forced to rule a kingdom. She had grown up fast, the innocent girl he had met at a forgotten cottage lost in the woods gone, replaced by a hard and mature face, forced the see the horror the world offered. 

It disheartened Mace to remember how innocent Kelsea had been such a short time ago, how he had objected her to finding out the truth of her kingdom, every dirty secret and every wound waiting to be healed. He saw how dispirited she had became, how tortured she was by the troubles plaguing her life. He had seen the innocence ripped out of her the moment she had seen the cages littering the Keep's lawn and he let her be broken by the truth, almost leading her to her own death. The reality of it terrified him.

“I'm glad you're back, Lazarus. I've begun to miss you.” Kelsea looked at him, a smirk on her face, yet her eyes shone with sadness.

“Kelsea, are you alright?” Mace looked at her, worry on his face.

Kelsea froze, as if she was caught red handed committing a sinister crime. She physically closed herself off, tightening her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees, eyes closed. Mace watched with care, waiting for her to speak.

“I feel like I am lost and alone, running from something, yet going in a direction that takes me nowhere. I don't know what to do and I'm scared, Lazarus. I am terrified of every action I take, scared it will cause the collapse of this kingdom. I am scared I am losing myself and I do not know how to get it back.” 

The room went silent, a throat clenching silence that traps you, scares you, forced you to realize the truth of the situation. It was silent. It was threatening. 

“Kelsea, it will be okay. I promise you, everything will work out.” Mace felt awkward, unsure of the next step in comforting a person. He did not want to baby Kelsea, to sugarcoat the truth and lie, to tell her he was going to help her when he had no clue what to do next. But he knew sometimes humans need to be lied to, soothed with sugar coating and false promises. He knew Kelsea had acted strong and unbreakable for months, unable to allow herself to break for fear of disrupt and destruction. She had been a stable pillar while her world crashed down around her but she had been hurting, a hidden pain that she only could reveal to family, to Mace. And she let him into her life, showed her vulnerability and pain, her fear and hesitation. She needed him to comfort her, to help her stop the immense pain that she felt, to have an ear for her troubles thoughts, and Mace knew it.

Mace moved to Kelsea, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean against him. He felt tense, unfamiliar with the contact, but he let himself relax, allowing Kelsea to slump against his side, her body limp with exhaustion. 

“I’m sorry to burden you with this. I just feel like I’m losing myself and I have no one to turn to.” 

“I’m here for you, Kelsea. I’ll help you find yourself again.” Mace let out a breath, looking at Kelsea. “I think you are too caught up with your duties. You need to seperate yourself from the politics. You need a distraction.” 

She looked up at him, questioning, hopeful. 

“You are drowning in your duties and you need to remember that you are young, you deserve to have fun and relax at moments. Your life cannot be complete taken up with your queenly duties; you need to enjoy yourself and act your age. You have grown up too fast and I regret that.”

Mace looked away, uncomfortable. He stepped into unknown waters, trying to comfort Kelsea, and he did not know if his words helped. 

“What about a party? Thrown for all of New London?” Kelsea nudged him to gain his attention. He looked back to her, a smile awaiting for his answer. “I’ve never been to a party before, it could be fun.”

“Alright, we can start with that.”

_______________

Elston stood at his post, staring at the wall in front of him. With the return of Mace, his extra duties as temporary leader of the guard were dropped, leaving him to the usual daily duties of guards. Though he cherished the leadership role he had been given, he was not cut out to be a leader. He was rash and impulsive, too violent at points and unable to have everyone look up to him, to be that perfect idol of discipline and brutality that makes up a guard. He’d rather be just one amongst the many, someone in the crowd, getting his work done like everyone else. He’d rather spend his free time with the other guards, relaxing and talking, not planning and organizing. 

Elston shifted his weight onto his other foot, glancing down the hall. It had been deserted for an hour now, not a single person walked past Elston, leaving him alone to his thoughts.  
He tended not to dwell on his thoughts, leaving the deep conversations to Kibb, the talks about inner turmoil or unrealistic dreams of the future. Of leaving the Keep, growing old in a cottage where no one would disturb them.

Elston enjoyed thinking about the future; it never seemed to hold impending doom for him. It was full of hope, a blank slate where anything could happen. The future ment opportunity, new experiences, change. It held possibilities of a better life, of peace and happiness. So Elston was fond of the future, happy to think about it, and loved when Kibb imagines scenarios of it.

“Elston, I’m here to relieve you of your duty.” Galen called down the hallway, bring Elston out of his thoughts. He glanced to a nearby window, seeing the sun setting below the horizon. “You’re welcome.”

Galen stopped next to him wearing a cheerful smile. Elston laughed and shook his head, stepping aside to allow Galen to stand in position.

“Thanks Galen. Have fun with the night shift, this hall is dead today.” Elston rolled his shoulders, glad his shift was finished. Standing in the same spot for three hours was not the most exciting job, but nevertheless, it was important.

Elston began to walk off but paused when Galen spoke up again.

“Oh, Kibb is waiting for you in the library. Goodnight, Elston.” Galen smiled again and waved. Elston offered a wave in return and went on his way, a warm feeling filling his body.

After a quick stop in his room to take off his armor, Elston entered the library. The room was quiet, the sound of a fire crackling and pages turning created a comfortable atmosphere. Kibb sat on one of the sofas, positioned in front of the fireplace. He did not look up from his book when Elston sat beside him, but Elston could see a smile appear on his face.

“What are you reading?” Elston leaned against the back of the sofa, stretching his arm along the back of it, behind Kibb’s head. “Anything good?”

“You wouldn’t like it.” Kibb answered easily, closing his book in the process. He turned his head to look at Elston. Elston raise his eyebrow, questioning. “It’s Shakespeare, one of his plays. As I said before, you wouldn’t like it.”

Kibb tossed the book onto a nearby table and rested against the back of the couch, his head on top of Elston’s arm. They stayed in silence for a moment, simply taking in each other’s company. Elston focused on Kibb’s soft breathing, letting the rhythm soothe him.

“How do you feel about the party Kelsea is planning? Seems like it is really easing the tension within the guard.” Kibb asked as he stared at the fire. Elston shifted closer to him and shrugged.

“It’s a great idea; this kingdom hasn’t seem a party in a long time, it’s overdue.”

They lapsed into silence again, a comfortable and familiar silence. Elston looked over to Kibb who stared at the fire, his face neutral. Elston smiled, cherishing the moment as if it was their last.

They were young when they met, much younger than what they were now. Both freshly appointed to the guard, Queen Elyssa alive and well, slowly running her kingdom into the ground. When they first met, it was nothing special, nothing to indicate where they would end up.

They took to each other immediately, choosing to spend their freetime in the company of the other. They fought well with one another, moving in sync, fighting easily around the other, each knowing each other’s strengths and weaknesses. 

They grew closer as they years continued, sharing pieces of their lives without hesitation, trusting the other completely. Their relationship turned romantic without a bat of an eye from each other, as if it was the natural procession their relationship was meant to take. 

For Elston, the love he felt for the other man grew slowly over time, beginning the moment they started talking. It scared him at first, knowing the consequences he would experience if he let it slip to the wrong person, but when Elston was with Kibb, talking with each other until the early hours of the morning, the fear disappeared. When he saw Kibb, heard his laugh, or heard him proudly singing a song he barely knew, Elston knew his life was incomplete without Kibb. The consequences meant nothing compared to the agony a life without Kibb would mean. 

Elston lived with his love for Kibb for years, letting it simmer under the surface, simply pleased to have Kibb as a friend. He would have lived his entire life without revealing his love to Kibb, choosing to have him as a friend than lose him with unwanted advances. 

It was a quiet evening when things changed. They laid on Elston’s bed, alone, together. Kibb drawled on about the future, speaking quietly about his dreams. Elston listened intently, admiring every moment Kibb spoke. Kibb continued to speak, turning to talk about the future life he imagined. It started simple, a small house outside of New London, secluded in the woods but near the ocean. But as Kibb talked, he added Elston to his future life, living with him, happily, contently, lovingly.

Elston watched Kibb talk about the future, watching his body tense up, his eyes staring at the ceiling. He continued to talk about the future, about them, about how close they would be, about how nice it would be, just the two of them. Elston stopped Kibb’s speech with a kiss, short and unrefined, but nevertheless effective. It silenced Kibb, his face frozen in shock, but the tension drained from his body. Elston just watched him with a smile, not a doubt in his mind that Kibb returned his affection.

“Hey, Elston, what are you thinking about?” Kibb gently shook Elston’s shoulder, breaking him away from his thoughts. He focused on Kibb, seeing each scar, wrinkle, and blemish that appeared on his face, as if to memorize them.

“I was just thinking about us.” 

Elston watched Kibb’s face break into a smile, unseen stress releasing in ease. Elston couldn’t help but smile back, entirely at peace.

“Anything in particular?”

“Just how we met and how this started.”

Elston took Kibb’s hand in his, interlocking their fingers. He brought Kibb’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly. Kibb nodded and closed his eyes, his head resting against the couch.

“Do you still like the idea, of us moving out of New London in the future? Alone and safe in a nice cozy cottage, away from all of this. I still think about that sometimes; it’s peaceful, thinking of a future with you.” Kibb spoke softly, echoing the conversation his younger self had.

“Anywhere with you is a perfect future, Kibb. I’d go anywhere with you and I’ll be happy.” Elston moved to Kibb until their sides were meeting, the contact warming him to the core.

“I love you, El.”

“I love you too.”

Elston smiled, freely and easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The world harnesses anger that attacks and destroys, yet in moments like these, that anger disappeared from Elston's world. As long as Kibb was with him, everything would be okay.

_______________

Mace stood in front of Kelsea, his body blocking her from exiting the Keep. She stood with her arms crossed across her chest, her lower lip set to a pout. Her posture made her look younger, childlike. Mace stood firm, knowing he won’t prevent Kelsea from attending the party, however he still had a fleeting hope to reason with her in regards to security. She continually refused for any queen’s guards to follow her around, wanting to appear friendly and approachable. 

“If I had you as my shadow all night then people will not come and talk to me. I want to get to know my people and I can’t do that if you are scaring them off all night!” Kelsea repeated her reasoning again. She had already told Mace this five times before and each time she had gotten angrier at the resulting refusal by Mace. 

“I understand that you believe there is nothing to fear at this party, however I do not trust like that. These people could attack you at any moment. As you said before, moral is low and what if someone blames you for all their hardship. All it takes is for one concealed knife and being able to approach you unprotected.” Mace ran his hand down his face, exhausted at Kelsea’s stubbornness. “If not me, what about another guard.”

Kelsea’s face lit up at the new suggestion. Mace inwardly cursed, knowing he now had to find a guard that would not ‘scare off the guests.’

“What about that new guard, the one you brought back from the Almont? I think she is the guard that has the least possibility to scare people off.” Kelsea smiled to him, a pleading smile, hoping to get her way. 

Mace nodded, letting Kelsea have this victory. Though Maude is the newest member of the guard, Mace had seen her train and trusts her to keep Kelsea safe. Every guard has to have their first assignment at some point, Mace reasoned with himself as he turned to go fetch Maude. She was not scheduled to guard the party and Mace had overheard her tell a few other guards she planned to just stay in her room for the night. Mace quickly went down the hall but paused as Kelsea spoke up from her spot by the door.

“Lazarus! Have her not wear the guard armor. I want to be approachable, remember!”

Mace chuckled and shook his head as he continued on his way, hoping Maude would be okay with the sudden assignment.

As Mace approached the door to Maude’s room, he heard muffled humming coming from the other side. He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on the door and heard the noise stop, regretful of taking her off-duty time away.

The door opened quickly, a look of surprise on her face. She seemed to comprehend that it was Mace standing in front of her as she quickly whipped her face of emotions. 

“Mace, what can I do for you?” She asked stoically, her back straight and eyes unfocused on the wall behind Mace. He felt another wave of guilt pass over him, wishing he had not caved to Kelsea.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening alone, but Queen Kelsea has made a special request for you to accompanying her during the party.” Mace spoke evenly, watching Maude's face light up with joy. At least she did not seem sad to have her solitude taken away. “We must leave now; the queen waits to join the party.”

Maude nodded, fast. She seemed to be overwhelmed, choking on her words. Mace patiently waited for her to regain herself. He made sure his face did not reflect any judgment, for he did not want her to feel scared to express her emotions. He saw that she had many, and at times they overwhelmed her, and Mace did not want to take that away. Being emotional can be a strength, he came to realize over the years, and being forced to hide your emotions did not solve any problems.

“Oh- um… okay. Okay. I’ll go get changed. Okay”

“The queen has requested for you to not wear your armor, something about being seen as approachable. Wear whatever you feel comfortable in, but you will need to conceal some weapons.” Mace added quickly before she closed the door. She turned her head to Mace again, anxiety clear. He offered her a small smile, hoping it will reassure her. “Don’t worry, Maude. I trust you.”

At that, Maude nodded again and closed the door, flustered. Mace let out a sigh, already exhausted with the night. Kelsea had been troublesome since he returned from the Almont, especially with details surrounding this party. She persisted to argue with him, determined to get her way. He let her argue, amused by her stubbornness. He knew she enjoyed the arguments, an easy way to release her pent up anger. But after days worth of disagreement, Mace was fine with letting Kelsea get her way. He would still keep an eye on her during the party, and she knew that as well, but if Kelsea felt better being accompanied by Maude, unarmored and approachable, vulnerable, Mace would let her. 

Mace was still in thought as Maude exited her room, the dooring closing snapping him back to focus. He looked up to see the woman in front of him, silently watching her hide a knife under her pants and finish buttoning her shirt, an eager look in her eyes. Once she finished adjusting her outfit, she meet Mace’s eyes, slightly apprehension to continue to the Keep’s door. Mace simply smiled to her, relieving some tension in her shoulders. She nodded and followed Mace’s quick pace towards the exit. 

Mace silently let out a sigh of relief when he saw Kelsea standing where he left her, half expecting her to ditch him to join the party without a guard. She perked up when she saw them approach, smiled widely at them. Mace returned her bright smile with a small one in return and he saw Maude raise a hand in greeting beside him.

“Hello Lady. It is- uh- a honor. Thank you.” Maude nervously bowed and averted her gaze from Kelsea, clearing unsure on what to do.

“Are we ready to join this party now, Kelsea?” Mace asked, ready to open the doors. When he didn’t receive a reply, he looked back to the two women. They stood talking quickly and quietly, not hearing Mace’s question. He shook his head in feind annoyance and went to stand at Kelsea’s side once again. His presence prompted them to fall silent and look up at him. He looked at Kelsea and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go to your party?”

Kelsea laughed at his tone, a sad mix of exasperation and tiredness. Her eyes shone with light, something that so rarely happened. Mace was suddenly grateful for the party, for it gave Kelsea happiness and hope. He knew she was treading the waters of her sorrows and she was dangerously close to drowning. This party was a relief from the stressful negotiations and diplomatic matters that plagued her daily life, and Mace felt his own relief to know that Kelsea was happy.

He opened the doors to the Keep and lead them down to the lawn where the party was currently taking place. The lawn was filled with people, dressed in their nicest outfits, all seeming to be enjoying themselves. Above the chatter of the crowd, music could be heard, dancing across the air with its light notes. Though there was still some sunlight peeking out above the horizon, the lawn was adorned with lanterns, illuminated the scene in a yellow haze.

Mace admitted that just seeing scene filled him with hope. After all the destruction and horror New London had experienced over the past years, this simple party reminded them that life goes on. Kelsea felt broken and lost, and there was no doubt the kingdom shared her struggles. Every citizen struggled in the aftermath, their lives changed by the attack, and Kelsea felt for each of them. Her heart broke for their sorrows.. 

“You look really nice, Maude. Pants would be an excellent thought right now, but alas, a queen must wear a dress.” Kelsea’s light comments pulled Mace out of his thoughts. He listened back to the two, unsure that they were getting along. It had only been a short time since he had brought Maude into the Queen’s Guard, and in that time Kelsea had not spent time with Maude. He was feared they would not enjoy each other’s company, but as he listened, he realized the fear was unwarranted.

“Thank you, Lady. I was afraid my outfit would not fit with the standards, seeing as most women do wear dresses to functions such as these. I do not own a dress and I was not planning on attending this party, so I was unprepared for it.” Maude’s voice sounded soft and embarrassed. Kelsea let out an easy laugh.

“Nonsense, Maude. You can wear whatever you want, who is to judge. Just because the Holy Father preaches that all women who do not wear dresses are homosexuals does not mean it is true nor a bad thing. I say screw him.” Kelsea laughed again, this time Maude joining in on the laughter. Mace glanced back to them, watching them for a moment. Their arms were linked and Kelsea leaned into the other as she laughed. Mace felt happy as he watched Kelsea smile so easily and Maude finally speak without becoming overcome with emotions. 

He half wished the moment would never end, but as they approached the party, people began to notice that the queen was joining the festivities. Mace could see the people’s hesitancy as they walked towards them, no doubt fearful of Mace. Kelsea was right, they were scared of him. Mace internally sighed as he veered off to the right, separating himself from Kelsea. He walked a good distance away, keeping on the perimeter of the crowd. Mace watched Kelsea walk into the crowd of her subjects, the energy and noise increasing as more people saw she had arrived. Mace felt nervous, leaving Kelsea in a crowd of the common people, but he trusted Maude and knew she would defend Kelsea with her life. That intense loyalty calmed Mace a little.

“She finally convinced you to not follow her around all night?” Coryn appeared at Mace’s side, handing over a drink of some kind. Mace accepted the glass, inspecting the thick liquid before taking a sip. “It’s eggnog. Thought you would like some.” Coryn commented with a shrug.

They stood without talking, watching the crowd around Kelsea. After some time Mace could feel Coryn staring at him. He chose to ignore it, knowing Coryn would gladly start a conversation if he wanted to speak. Mace just let him watch his face as he watched the crowd, keeping an eye on Kelsea’s movements. 

“I know you care about her, but you do not have the watch her every movement. She is strong and can defend herself, and she is with Maude. Nothing is going to happen.” Coryn jabbed an elbow into his side, causing him to look over to him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “You’re being overprotective.”

Mace gaped at his bluntness. He felt no anger, but shock. And Coryn knew he would not receive anger in reply, for he just stood beside him and smiled. Mace pursed his lips and crossed his arms, unsure if he wanted to reply. 

Coryn reached out and pushed Mace’s shoulder, letting out a humored sigh. “The queen might have given you orders to stay away from her, however I was given orders too. She told me to make you enjoy yourself at this party, so here I am.”

Coryn’s smile extended as Mace gave another look of annoyance. Of course Kelsea went around his back and gave Coryn his own orders. Mace looked once again to Kelsea, the swarm of people around her had died off some and he could see Maude still linked with Kelsea. He accepted his situations, knowing there was no way out of it. He could not leave the party or ditch Coryn, so he has to accept the fate which Kelsea laid out for him. He let out a heavy sigh and looked to Coryn.

“Let’s go walk the perimeter.” Mace sighed again as he began to move around the edge of the crowd. Coryn walked beside him, his smile still wide on his face. Though his situation was not ideal, he felt calm, happy even. Mace continued to relax as he went around, watching people and listening to conversations, making sure everything was safe and secure.

_______________

Aisa gripped the hands she was holding tightly, scared of letting go. Father Tyler stood to her left, his grip equally as tight on Aisa’s small hand. Andalie held her right hand, calming Aisa simply with her presence. Andalie guided Aisa’s siblings along with them, letting them wander not a foot away from her grip. Their presence calmed Aisa as well; the knowledge that her brothers and sisters are safe and enjoying themselves gave her hope and filled her with happiness. 

“This seems like a nice spot to settle down.” Father Tyler directed their attention to an empty table near the band that played. Andalie silently moved their group over to it, sitting down gently into a chair before releasing Aisa’s hand. 

Aisa felt conflicted as her mother’s hand fell out of her grasp. She was so very happy her mother felt comfortable enough to give Aisa space, confident that she was okay. But Aisa felt sad at this release of contact with her mother. She was scared of being left alone, scared to be abandoned, and losing her touch terrified her. Aisa could not bear to lose her mother and she felt not being in physical contact with her would make it easier for her to lose her. Aisa choked down tears, wanting to seem strong, wanting to force herself to get over her fear.

“Aisa, my child, are you well?” Father Tyler leaned down towards her, his voice soft, comforting. Aisa forced herself to nod, worried that if she admitted to being scare they would take her back inside. She wanted to be with people again, to see them having fun and talking. She needed to see humanity again.

“I am okay, Father. Just a little nervous, that’s all.” Aisa forced a smile, the joy not quite reaching her eyes. Father Tyler nodded to her, lips pursed and worried.

Aisa turned back to observe the party. Awe washed over her as she watched the adults mill around her. They smiled and laughed and talked, easily, comfortably, happily. Aisa got a sudden sense to cry, engulfed in emotion. There was comfort in watching these people enjoy themselves, yet in the back of her mind, the part which held the discomforting feeling she felt since she had awoken from death, she was reminded of a darker time. A time when blood drenched the grass they stood on, rubble falling off building, and screams filling the air. A time where exhaustion filled ever bone of hers, and desperation clung to her heart, driving her to help Father Tyler.

Father Tyler.

Aisa’s mind was flooded with memories of her life right before the child monsters came. The dark and dirt that surrounded her; the weak frame of Father Tyler, starved and hurt; the dead man she found Father Tyler with, the hurt of Father Tyler’s face when he saw her looking at the bloody, broken man beside him. She gasped at the sudden sadness that hit her, shock and regret at the remembrance of these memories. 

She had forgotten of the horrors she had seen before the monsters came; how she spent days in the Creech, helping to clean the slime that stuck to the place. She was too consumed by the dark, scared feeling of her soul after she had awoken that these memories were shoved away, lost from her mind. 

She suddenly felt arms around her and a hand rubbing circles on her back. She stared back at the world, relieve to find it the same as it was. She felt her cheeks wet and her breathing hitched. Aisa cursed herself in her head, angry that she had broken so completely at some simple memories. 

Aisa heard her mother murmur something to Father Tyler, who Aisa realized was the one hugging her. She couldn’t pick up on the exact words being said, but she could hear her siblings asking questions, concerned about her state. She must be taking them someone away from me, Aisa reasoned as she felt Andalie walk off.

“My child, what happened?” Father Tyler pulled out of the hug and sat at the table, a tired look on his face. Aisa looked to him, wide eyed and scared. The images she saw of him from her memories flashed before her eyes. She chose to climb into his lap and close her eyes to rid the images from her mind. It did not work.

“Who was the man I found you with? Down in the Creech, before… you know…” Aisa trailed off, her voice soft and breaking. She felt Father Tyler’s hand momentarily stop moving before returning to trace a light circular pattern along her back.

“His name was Father Seth.” His voice was quiet, thick with sorrow.

“What happened to him?”

Father Tyler sighed and looked down at her, filled with sadness. He wished she was not the one that found them, that she did not have to hold the memory of the broken and dirty man who had died in the Creech, scared and hurt.

“He was tortured by the Holy Father because he was a homosexual. He was hurt and humiliated by the Church because of who he loved, so when I left, I took him with me. I could not stand having him stay at the Church, in that condition, so lonely and hurt.” Father Tyler cleared his throat, wishing Aisa had better memories, regretful that he had to poison the idea of the Church for her, sad that he had to fill Aisa’s head with the sad story of Father Seth, a man whom he mourned every day since his death.

“Oh,” Aisa was silent as she looked up towards him, meeting his eyes. He saw terror and sorrow in her eyes, a sadness that no child should experience. “Why is being a homosexual bad?” 

Aisa turned the subject away from the harsh memories she had experienced, not wanting to go down that path of misery. Instead, she picked the path towards a gentler conversation, as well as a topic she had questions about, never before given the space to ask them.

Father Tyler was shocked by the change in topic, knowing Aisa did not burst into tears for nothing. But he relented, knowing the real reason would lead to a sad and terrifying conversation he did not particularly want to discuss at a party. For another time, he decided and took a breath.

“It’s not bad, Aisa, but the Bible had been interpreted in certain ways so that people say it is bad and defend themselves with the Bible.” Father Tyler moved his hand to smooth Aisa’s hair absentmindedly. He looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you think it is bad?”

“No.” Aisa replied quickly, knowing her answer for years. Partially her answer was because of inner morals, but another part came from hearing her father yell about the evils of homosexuals as a child, his harsh voice crashing down on her, cutting her to threads. “Do you?”

“No, of course not.” Father Tyler sighed, thinking back to Father Seth. He wish he could have done something more, helped in some way, but he knew he couldn’t. If he had been caught helping or caring about Father Seth, he would have suffered the same punishment and cause more pain to Seth. Still, the whole experience was one of the biggest regret of his life.

Aisa shifted in his lap, moving her head to rest against his shoulder, her hands fiddling with the end of his sweater. Father Tyler held her gently with one hand, the other occupied with smoothing Aisa’s hair. She continued to play with the loose threads of the sweater, but did not pull them, simply twisted them around her fingers. Father Tyler watched her, sensing she was nervous about something. He knew she would not voluntarily say what was concerning her, so Father Tyler tried to prompt her to say something. 

“What makes you bring it up?” He kept his voice even, calm. Aisa sat silently for a moment, twisting the strings intently.

“I was just curious about it.” Aisa began, but stopped as her nerves bubbled up. She focused on Father Tyler’s steady heart beat, listening to the calm, rhythmic motion of the beat. “My father use to yell about them, homosexuals. He use to curse them, say they were demons living among men, saying that we need to kill them.”

Aisa stopped again, ducking her head off his shoulder and laid it against his chest. Closer to the heart beat. Father Tyler’s grip tightened around her, sensing her anxiety. He knew she was almost ready to tell him about whatever was making her so upset, he just had to be patient. He kept his breathing steady and continued to run his hand gently down her hair, wanting her to feel safe, telling her he was not mad. Aisa took a few deep breaths, preparing to go on.

“He started yelling at us about them because of me. I said that my friend, Annabelle, was so beautiful that I wanted to marry her when I grew up. I didn’t know any better and he just started yelling. Yelling about how that was a sin to say, to even think about. He hit me as he yelled. Two punches: one in the shoulder and one in the face. I can remember that day so clearly. He was so so so mad. I didn’t know what I did wrong. Did I do something wrong?” 

Aisa’s body shook as she released a shaking breath. That day still upset her; a horrible day burned forever into her memory. She could still feel the panic she felt as her father’s face grew cold as she talked about Annabelle. She remembered the moment her father had enough, the pain on her shoulder sudden and loud.

Father Tyler wrapped his arms tighter around Aisa, pressing her close to his heart. He felt incredible sadness and pain from the story, and an anger towards the father that he relished in. He didn’t speak until Aisa stopped shaking, just holding her until she calmed.

“My child, you did nothing wrong. Your father is a despicable man who is more sinful than any homosexual. You are never at fault for his shortcomings. You have done nothing wrong.” Father Tyler’s heart broken even more as a sob came from Aisa. He shushed her, hugging her closer.

“What if I am a homosexual? Does that make me bad and a demon?” Aisa choked out her words and braced from Father Tyler’s reply. She was ready to be hit, ready to be driven away from the man who had helped her so much. Instead she was held tightly against his chest, his hand smoothing her hair.

“Aisa, my dear child, you are not evil if you love other girls. You are yourself and do not ever think that being yourself is bad, because you are not bad or evil or a demon. You are a beautiful young soul who has experienced too much heartbreak at such a young age. You deserve the world, my love.” Father Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of Aisa’s head. This young girl held so much sorrow in her tiny frame and Father Tyler wished he could take it all. Every bad memory, every drop of self-doubt, every idea that she was not good. He could not bare to see her sad and broken, his heart breaking every moment her eyes held a weight much too mature for her age. He was lost in his own life, but he desperately tried to make Aisa feel found. 

“Can you take me inside? I have had enough of this party.” Aisa looked up at Father Tyler, eyes red and tears on her cheeks. He smiled to her, and nodded, lifting her into his arms as he stood. He may be old, but he could muster enough strength to carry Aisa. Aisa rested her head against his chest, listening to the heart beat. “Can you read to me when we get inside? I need a happy story.”

_______________

Kelsea walked easily through the crowd of people around her, the bodies parting as she walked forward. Her surroundings filled her with an excitable energy, as if she could do anything. Their joy gave her hope, a reassurance of her actions. Her head, so filled with worries and fears for every decision she makes, finally settled as the crowd surrounded her with their happy faces and easy smiles.

Hands touched her arms at every angle, fleeting touches of hope and desires. A queen of the people; a queen being within arms reach of the common people. There were shouts of joy, greetings and calls of her name. Genuine surprise and delight filled the air. 

“Your Majesty! Please!” A woman’s voice rose above the rest, causing Kelsea to stop. She looked for the source of the voice and found a woman approaching, a young girl perched in her arms. “My Queen, would it be alright if I can ask a question? About the reform of the city?”

The woman bowed for Kelsea and rose again, a desperate look in her face. Kelsea gave a smile in return, hoping to reassure the woman. 

“Of course, Ma’am. I am always open to hear questions and complaints from the people.” Kelsea kept her smile on as she looked at the young girl in the woman’s arms. The girl had her face tucked into her mother’s neck and a tight hold on her arms. It was bittersweet to see the child; a reminder of the hopeful young life living in the wretched world. 

“Education. Do you have any plans of education for New London?” 

“There is some planning to instate a proper education system for New London. Funding and supply of teachers is the main issues we are trying to work out currently.” 

A wave of murmurs emanated from the crowd. Kelsea strained to hear them, trying to pick up if they were good or bad. But before she could decide what the crowd thought of her answer, the voices started shouting at her.

“What about public safety?”

“Why are you working with the church if you do not believe in their principles?”

“Jobs! We need jobs!”

“What if the Mortmesne come back?”

Kelsea stood as all the voices overwhelmed her. Each question from a worried mother, an angry brother, a desperate wife reminded her of every project she had to start, ever policy she had to write, and every problem plaguing her kingdom. She wanted to disappear, to run away from the responsibility and the problems. They weighed on her shoulders, slowly crushing her, demolishing her being. She felt small, ignorant, and far too young to be burdened by all these troubles.

Her lungs felt tight, her breathing hitched and her vision blurry. It was too much; the questions, the party, the people. They were overwhelming, suffocating.

“The Queen is thankful for all your concerns and she will work on fixing these problems. Now, however, the questions must stop. This is a party, not a court session.” Maude voice rose above the others, silencing them. Kelsea looked at her, thankful she was there.

The crowd turned back to the party, leaving Kelsea alone with Maude. Kelsea smiled to her, glad the crowd had broken away, but regretful that she had to turn them away. She wanted to hear their issues, to try to fix each problem that they experience, but she couldn't handle it currently. She couldn’t hear them all like this, she needed to be prepared, to be stronger.

`“Thank you, Maude. That was a bit overwhelming.” Kelsea laughed awkwardly. Maude offered a smile in reassurance. “Do you want to dance?”

Kelsea smiled, the idea of dancing filled her with joy. She had not danced in a long time, the last time being with Carlin and Barty. Ever since she left the cottage, her life had been chaotic, the thought of dancing hadn't crossed her mind in months. The prospect of dancing eased her mind from the crowd and all their troubles.

Kelsea led Maude through the crowd, following the music as a guide. She stopped when she saw the band, the music loud and jovial. Excitement ran through Kelsea's bones as she turned to Maude, grabbing her hands. She swung her around, pushing and pulling with their interlocked hands. Kelsea laughed as she moved with the music, every darkness that lived in her mind gone. She was happy, the happiest she had been in months. It was pure joy that filled Kelsea. It was unfamiliar but welcomed; it was warm and soft and filled every inch of Kelsea's body. 

The song ended and Kelsea slowed, her heartbeat drumming in her head. Maude smiled to her, a joy equal to Kelsea's seen on her face. She pointed somewhere behind Kelsea and leaned close to her ear.

“Go ask Mace to dance.” Maude spoke gently but loud enough to be heard over the music. She moved away and squeezed her shoulder.

Kelsea turned behind her to find Mace near the edge of the party, Coryn talking next to him. Her smile grew as she walked over, waving at Coryn.

“Dance with me Lazarus!” Kelsea grabbed Mace's hand and pulled. He rolled his eyes at her but did not move.

“You were fine dancing with Maude.” 

Kelsea shook her head and pulled his arm again. She knew her behavior was childish, but she allowed herself to have fun, enjoy herself. 

“Coryn, help me here.” Kelsea looked to Coryn, her eyes pleading for help. Coryn chuckled and push Mace's shoulder.

“Go dance with her Mace. Have fun, relax a little.” Coryn smiled and pushed him again, harder this time. Mace stepped forward to stop himself from stumbling, but Kelsea pulled him forward as he stepped. He sighed and let her guide him toward the group of people dancing.

Kelsea turned to Mace when she reached the other dancers. She smiled brightly, happiness coursing through her. Her face hurt from her smile, but she refused to stop, wanting to express the utter joy she felt. Mace returned her smile, a small and hidden smile, but nevertheless there.

Kelsea grabbed his hands and began to move, forcing his arms to move with hers. She laughed as she danced, moving around Mace with joy. He stayed mostly still, his arms the only things moving, but Kelsea didn't mind. He was with her, he was by her side and that was all that mattered. None if her problems could have bothered her in this moment, she was happy, she was young, and she had her family with her, almost dancing just to please her. It was the happiest she felt in a long time and she wished the feeling would never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple things to mention:  
> Hopefully I'll have time to write and I wont not post for like 4 months as I did with this chapter.
> 
> Also, I know I write a lot about the homophobia that the Tearling has, especially in this chapter, because I'm gay and and ive been really interested in the homophobia Johansen created in this world. Exploring it and writing characters actively trying to stop and change the homophobia in their society is really cathartic. I've writen Aisa as gay because I wanted to add more representation to this story and I just really like Aisa's character and I think it fits. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter and another chapter should come out soonish, if everything goes as plan


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